Out of the Badlands
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: Tony has dragged Tim on a road trip after the events of the season 9 finale...trying to figure out what's wrong with Tim and how to fix him. Written for the NFA Here, There and Everywhere challenge. Ten chapters. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**This story takes place about a month after the events of the season 9 finale and makes numerous references to it. So there are many spoilers. It's a Tim and Tony friendship story written for the NFA Here, There and Everywhere challenge. Flashbacks are in italics and show up quite often. This story started out as a simple road trip but became more angsty than I'd planned. That's your warning. :)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own NCIS and I'm not making money off this story.

* * *

**Out of the Badlands  
**by Enthusiastic Fish

**Chapter 1**

Tim mumbled in his sleep and his head thunked against the window. For a moment, Tony thought he might wake up, but thankfully, he stayed asleep. Not that it would be a _problem_ if Tim woke up, but he needed the sleep. It was good to see him sleeping at all, even if those first couple of days after the bomb had been full of anxiety because he wasn't waking up.

...and then, after he _had_ awakened...

"Where are we?" Tim mumbled, his eyes opening slightly.

"Minnesota," Tony said.

"Oh..." Tim's eyes closed and his head slipped back between the seat and the door.

The road trip was a last-ditch effort to get Tim back in the saddle again, and to get him to explain why he'd fallen _out_ of the saddle. It was almost ironic that Ducky was the one with the longest-lasting problems and he hadn't even _been_ at the building. While his recovery would take time, he was well past the danger zone...for which everyone was thankful. Jimmy was asserting himself more and seemed almost driven to make sure Autopsy ran with the same high standards Ducky had set. No one was more devoted to assuring Ducky an easy return than he was.

Tony and Ziva had been read the riot act for stupidly getting on the elevator during an evacuation due to a bomb threat. Something they could both admit had been foolish...especially after twelve hours stuck in limbo, not knowing who else was alive or what the damage had been. They'd been knocked around a bit by the shaking but hadn't been hurt too badly. Abby and Gibbs had lucked out. Vance's car had been _right there_ outside the windows when the bomb had gone off. Both had been battered about and then buried beneath some of the rubble...which had saved them from worse injuries when some of Abby's lab supplies had ignited. Automatic sprinklers had doused the flames before they could do any more damage, but they'd both been out of commission for about a month. Tim had been found with others who had _not _survived (those who had been closest to the windows), a flash drive clutched tightly in his hand. The concussion had knocked him back against the desks and there had been some internal injuries. He had remained unconscious for two days before waking up in a blind panic, confused and disoriented, searching frantically for the flash drive.

"_Tim, you're awake! What are you doing out here?"_

_Tim looked at Tony and then around him, not seeming to comprehend the question._

"_I can't find it! I can't find it, Tony! I had it with me. I know I did. I wouldn't misplace it. I stayed to make sure I got it. We can't lose all that information, all those breakthroughs..."_

_Tim pushed past Tony and headed for the stairs...leading to the exit from the hospital._

"_Whoa! Tim! Hold up there. What are you talking about? Where are you going?"_

"_I have to find it, Tony! I have to!"_

_Tony grabbed Tim and stopped his faltering progress._

"_Tim! What are you looking for?" he asked, emphasizing each word._

"_All the data...I backed it up. We don't know how big the explosion's going to be! We need to have a backup in case the whole building goes down."_

"_Tim, the bomb blew up already. Two days ago! You're in the hospital. You're not at NCIS."_

_Tim stared at him. "What?"_

"_It's over, Tim. The bomb exploded. People died."_

"_But the flash drive..."_

"_We found that. We've got it. ...Probie, are you hearing me?"_

_Tim looked at him in shock._

"_We're still tracking down Dearing, but it's not happening now."_

_There was a little bit more time where Tim just stared at him. Then, he stopped trying to get to the stairs and he walked back toward his room without speaking. Tony followed him, but Tim just got back into his bed and seemed to go to sleep._

"_McGee? McGee?"_

_Nothing._

From that moment on, Tim had withdrawn. He had spoken to a therapist as he was supposed to, but what he said in there didn't seem to help him. He had dived into searching for Dearing with single-minded intensity. He stayed as late as he was allowed...and initially, no one thought to restrict him when he came back to work. He had been out for about two weeks before he had been allowed back...but Gibbs wasn't there, and Tony could admit that he hadn't realized what Tim was doing. It had been to his chagrine that Gibbs had come back for desk duty and had noticed that Tim wasn't leaving NCIS...or rather leaving the temporary headquarters while NCIS was being repaired. He was staying all night, barely sleeping. All he wanted was to find Dearing. Nothing else mattered.

...which led them both to this place.

Tony kept driving...until he saw a sign that made him smile. He pulled off I-90 and headed for an unscheduled stop.

"Wake up, McGee! We're at our first stop!"

Tim came awake again and looked around.

"This doesn't look like...Pipestone National Monument."

"Oh, this is better," Tony said. "Official beginning to the road trip is something totally unplanned!"

"Where are we?"

"The Jolly Green Giant!"

Tim gave him a look that was all too common lately...like Tony was wasting his time by doing anything other than working.

"Tony, you've got to be kidding me." He sighed. "Why did I agree to come on this trip with you?"

Tony pulled to a stop in the small parking lot, beside what looked like a little hut. He skewered Tim with serious look.

"Because, Tim, part of you knows that this is your last chance. Whatever is _up_ with you needs to _not_ be up. You're pretending that it's the rest of us with the problem, but it's not _us_. It's you. ...and if we have to drive all the way across the country to get you to see that, we'll do it."

"That'll be a lot of gas," Tim said.

Tony grinned. "Gibbs approved the trip. I'll give him a bill."

"Right. What do we have to do here?"

"Get out of the car, pose at the statue, maybe buy a silly t-shirt. Think you can handle that, McGee?"

Tim sighed. "If you're going to make me, then, yes, I can handle it."

"Good. Get out of the car."

Tim made work of getting out of the car, and then stalked over to the statue.

"Smile, Tim. It's a huge statue of a giant who makes canned green beans! How much sillier can you get?"

Tim rolled his eyes.

"Get up on the platform, Tim! That's an order."

Another long-suffering sigh and Tim climbed up on the platform between the legs of the huge green statue. He leaned on the safety railing and stared at Tony. It wasn't _quite_ resentment, but it was close. Tony made Tim take his picture in the same place although Tony posed and let out a loud, "Ho! Ho! Ho! Green giant!" He might have seen a fleeting smile on Tim's face, but by the time he got back down, the stone face was back.

"I want a t-shirt," Tony said, daring Tim to protest.

He didn't. Just another sigh.

Tony went into the little hut and looked around. It was close quarters, not much space, not much product, but it didn't matter. Tony zeroed in on a shirt that read _I feel like a GIANT today._ Perfect.

"I'm buying this for you, Tim."

"Why?"

"Because it suits you," Tony said and that was it. He bought the shirt and put it in the back seat.

Tim got back in the car. He said nothing. As soon as Tony started the car, he reclined the seat and closed his eyes.

Tony looked at him and shook his head. A lot of things weren't built in a day. Fixing whatever was wrong with Tim would be a lot the same.

At least he was getting to see all these tourist traps that he'd never had the chance to visit before. That was something. He was going to get Tim fixed..._and_ see the sights.

Determined, Tony started the car and pulled out of the little parking lot, back to I-90, heading to their next stop.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"_Man, Tim. You must be _living_ here! Give it a rest!"_

"_I'm not going to 'give it a rest', Tony. Dearing is still out there. He could still be after Gibbs once he realizes that Gibbs is still alive."_

"_He probably already does, you know. It's been two weeks since the bomb went off."_

"_All the more reason to keep working. We have to find him. We have to stop him from doing this again, Tony!" Tim got to his feet. "How many more people have to die before we catch this serial killer who's pretending to be crazy?"_

"_Pretending? I think he's nuts."_

"_He's not!" Tim said, almost shouting. "He's sane enough to plan ahead. He's sane enough to be a million steps ahead of us from day one. He's sane enough to figure out what all the steps would be so that Vance's car would be parked in front of NCIS. He's sane enough to get the material to build a bomb. He's sane enough to plant explosives that killed Navy personnel. He's sane enough to use his connections to destroy! Just because the catalyst happened to be the fact that his son died doesn't make him insane! He's not! He does not deserve any leniency for what he's done! He deserves to die...and the only unfortunate thing is that he won't have to suffer."_

"_Tim..."_

"_I have work to do, Tony. You want to take a break? Go ahead. I have work to do."_

And work Tim had...to the point that this road trip was necessary. They hadn't stopped much after leaving DC. Tony had suggested that they stop in Ohio to see Tim's family but Tim had nixed the idea. He said that they would only ask questions he didn't want to answer. So they had gone on. Tony was the designated driver, Tim not being trusted to drive in his current state. In fact, he had done little besides sleep...or pretend to sleep...since they'd left DC. The first day had been ten hours of driving, leaving Tony feeling a bit wiped out, but not so much that he didn't have the whimsy to say that they were going to take a detour to Kalamazoo. It was well out of their way and Tim had given him that _look_, but Tony had cheerfully declared that he had a gal out in Kalamazoo...and he even sang it. The long-suffering sigh...that really bugged Tony if he was honest about it.

Right now, Tim was asleep again. Tony was wide awake. The clouds above were extremely threatening, and if it started raining, it would likely be quite the deluge.

The first raindrops hit the windshield not ten minutes later.

Five minutes later, the windshield wipers were going full blast, the rain was pouring so hard that he couldn't see very far in front of him and he had slowed to what felt like a crawl. This was a _bad_ storm. There was no way around it.

"Wake up, McGee," Tony said loudly. He had to because the rain was so noisy.

Tim sat up.

"What?"

"I need you to find us a hotel to stop at. This storm is bad and getting worse. We're not going to make it as far as I'd planned."

"What? You scared?" Tim asked, with a bit of a sneer.

"Yes, actually. I'm scared that I'll hit someone because I can't see their taillights," Tony said in annoyance. "Do _you_ want that on your conscience?"

Tim didn't answer, but Tony could see the derision leave Tim's face. He pulled out his phone and started scanning. Tony knew that Tim would be able to find something. He hadn't lost any of his little gizmos.

"There's an AmericInn just off the freeway in Jackson."

Tony squinted through the windshield.

"Where's Jackson?"

"According to the GPS, we're about two miles. Next overpass."

Tony almost gaped at Tim. He sounded almost _normal_! No sarcasm. No anger. No veiled insults. He was just focused on getting them to the nearest hotel. Give Tim something to do and he was tolerable. ...but that wasn't what Tony wanted. Tim needed to _relax_, not work _more_.

Finally, Tony saw the sign for the overpass and happily pulled off the freeway to get out of the storm.

"Go left," Tim said. "Then, take the first right...but not back onto the freeway."

Wow. Had he just made a joke? Tony didn't comment, but he smiled.

"There it is," Tim said. "Turn there. Go past the first hotel on the right. It's the second one."

"Gotcha."

"It's really coming down."

"Yeah."

They got to the hotel and Tony parked under the overhang.

"You want to go in and see if they have a room available?"

Tim nodded and got out. Even with the roof overhead, there was so much rain coming down that Tim got wet going inside. Tony nervously tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. For some reason, he felt weird letting Tim out of his sight. Too many things had already gone wrong. He didn't want anything else to happen, especially not when he had taken responsibility.

"_This is your idea, Tony. You'll have to see it through," Gibbs said seriously. _

"_You have a better idea, Boss? Nothing else has worked. This is, at least, different."_

"_Your call."_

"_We're going."_

"_Okay."_

Tim came out a couple of minutes later.

"They have a room. It's not high tourism time for them; so there's lots of space."

"Great. I'll park."

"You want to unload the bags here or get them soaked in the rain?" Tim asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Right. Take them."

Tim nodded and got their two bags out of the trunk. Then, he waited just inside while Tony parked. The rain was still coming down in torrents. He ran as fast as he could, but he still got really wet.

"Hey, there's a swimming pool!"

"Can't use it," Tim said. "The lightning makes it unsafe."

"Ah, great. TV?"

"I'm sure there is. The room is this way."

Tim led the way up to the second floor. There was a distinctly rustic theme in the lobby, but it was warm, dry, clean. The room had two queen-sized beds.

"Excellent choice, Probie," Tony said with a grin. "Big room. Big beds. Nice TV."

"There's a continental breakfast in the morning."

"Great! Dinner?"

"Not here."

Tony pulled out the room binder and flipped through it.

"You okay with pizza?"

"Sure. Whatever. Doesn't matter."

Tony took that as freedom to order what he wanted. He got a pizza to be delivered. When it got there, Tim ate a few slices, Tony ate a few...all without talking much. They both showered. It was late enough that Tony felt tired after the tension of driving in the rain.

"I'm ready for lights out, McGee. You?"

"Sure. Whatever."

Tim got into his bed and lay down. Tony thought about trying to force a conversation, but he decided he was too tired for it. He turned out the lights and fell asleep almost instantly.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony came awake in the darkness, wondering what had disturbed him. Then, he heard some heavy breathing. He looked over and he saw the shape of Tim sitting up.

"What's going on, McGee?" he asked sleepily.

"Nothing. Leave me alone."

Tony sat up himself, now very awake. "What is it?"

"I'm not tired. I slept all day. Go back to sleep. You're not letting me drive anyway."

"You're not fit to drive and you know it."

"You won't be if you don't sleep. Doesn't matter if I do or not."

"Tim, come on."

"No! Tony, you forced me to do this. I didn't want to come. You chose it. It's my choice whether or not I sleep at night."

"Why aren't you sleeping at night?"

"I don't want to, okay?" Tim said angrily. "If you don't like it, let me go back to DC!"

"And do what? Gibbs won't let you back to work like this."

"Yeah. I know."

"Then, why are you refusing to do anything about it?"

"None of your business."

"Yes, it is. I'm your friend, McGee."

"You stopped me from working."

"We caught Dearing, McGee. What more do you want?"

Tim just scoffed without speaking. Tony sat quietly for a few seconds, wondering what he could say. There was _something_ going on beneath the surface but Tim didn't want to let it out. Tony couldn't figure out what it was.

"Why did you agree to come, Tim?" he asked, finally. "Sure, I pushed it on you, but you could have said no."

"Gibbs would have fired me. He was two seconds from doing that already."

"No way. He was _worried _about you, Tim. Can't you see what you were doing to yourself?"

"I was _working_, Tony. That's what we _do_, remember?"

"We were all working, Tim. Every one of us. It wasn't just you."

"None of you got fired."

"Neither did you."

"As good as."

"No!" Tony couldn't believe that Tim was even _saying_ that. Gibbs hadn't mentioned firing Tim once.

"Maybe you just weren't listening."

"Maybe _you_ weren't."

"Go to sleep, Tony. Leave me alone."

Tim lay back down and didn't speak again...but Tony could tell he didn't go to sleep. Tony wanted to get him to talk more, but he couldn't deny that he was tired. So he rolled over and slept, hoping that Tim would start talking more. What he'd said so far was more than he'd said up to now.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim watched Tony roll over and listened as his breathing evened out and he slept. He wouldn't admit it, but he couldn't help but be a little jealous that Tony could just go to sleep so easily. He didn't have any problems. He and Ziva had come back to work almost instantly, just a few bumps and bruises. Why were _they_ okay? Why was _he_ the one with the problem? He was bothered by the fact that he had tried to channel all his excess energy into something useful and it didn't matter at all. Everything was pointless, useless. All that he'd tried to do had amounted to nothing.

He stared up at the fire alarm on the ceiling, the little red light. Fire alarm. What did that matter? If a bomb went off in this place, it wasn't like the fire alarm would have helped much at all. In fact, if Dearing was ever freed, he'd probably find a way to make the sprinklers turn into acid rain.

The familiar tightening in his stomach caused him to start breathing heavily, trying to dispel it. It was so annoying that he couldn't stop that from happening. Every thought seemed to lead back to Dearing, hovering like a malevolent black cloud over everything that could be good in the world. It had taken him too long to find anything useful. It had come too late. Too many people had died. Too much damage. Dearing's destruction had extended all the way to Jimmy's wedding in Florida. He had almost managed to kill Ducky just by wreaking havoc in DC. How could you really fight against someone like that?

It was dangerous to let down your guard and sleep with no one on duty, no one ready for when the other shoe finally dropped.

Tim watched the little red light. Hoping that it didn't go out, that it didn't go off, that there was nothing to worry about but what the next inane thing Tony dragged him to was going to be.

He could sleep during the day when Tony was awake.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony woke up the next morning to find Tim already up and dressed.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"None of your business," Tim retorted. "The continental breakfast is set up. I'll see you downstairs."

He strode out of the room, leaving Tony alone. He looked out the window and saw that the clouds had passed. The storm was over. Would that it would be so easy for whatever was still going wrong with Tim. He shook his head, got dressed as quickly as he could and headed down to breakfast. No sense in wasting something that was free.

They ate without speaking to each other, checked out and got back in the car.

As soon as Tony started the engine, Tim reclined his seat and fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Hey, McGee." They'd only been going for about half an hour.

"What?" Tim asked blearily.

Genuinely asleep, then.

"You wanna make a visit to Walnut Grove?"

"What?"

"Walnut Grove. You know. _Little House on the Prairie_?"

Tim sat up.

"Are you crazy?"

"I wonder sometimes."

"No, I don't want to go to Walnut Grove."

Tim lay back down. Tony considered going anyway, but it was well out of their way, was not something he himself was interested in seeing, and might be more trouble than it was worth in terms of needling Tim. He decided to press on to get to Pipestone. Being both driver and navigator, he ended up driving too far north which put them off track, but in a rural way, it was rather pretty. As he drove, he was surprised to see a wind farm right beside the road. It wasn't that he didn't know what they were or how they worked, but he'd never been so close to one before.

"Hey, Tim! Wake up!"

"What?" Tim asked, irritated.

"Look out the window," Tony said with a smile.

"At what?"

"Just look!"

Tim looked with his eyes half open and then did a double-take.

"It's a wind farm," he said in surprise.

"Yeah! Cool, huh?"

"I've never seen one before," Tim said softly.

"Me, neither. Isn't it neat?"

Tim suddenly took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

"Yeah." He lay back down and closed his eyes.

"What's wrong, Tim?"

"Nothing. I'm just tired."

"Yeah, right. That wasn't being tired."

"I'm tired, Tony. Be quiet and let me sleep."

Tony had to keep his eyes on the road, but he had to say that even if he couldn't cure Tim of whatever ailed him, spending all this time with him was revealing a deeper problem that he had realized. He didn't like Tim shifting from mildly interested to disturbed. What had caused it?

"Tim?"

"What part of _be quiet_ don't you understand, DiNozzo?" Tim said angrily.

"Fine, fine."

The wind farm receded into the distance, passed by without further comment. It was something Tony knew that the old Tim would have been interested in; he would have been able to bring up information on them and bored Tony to tears with all the details. In fact, the old Tim would have driven Tony crazy.

He really wished that Tim was back.

It didn't take long to get to Pipestone. Tony got a bit lost in the town, not knowing where exactly he was going, and seeing that Tim was really asleep, he didn't want wake him. Finally, he got to Reservation Avenue which led to the Pipestone National Monument. The drive was slow. He didn't mind it. Tim really was asleep.

...but he reached the small parking lot in front of the visitor's center.

"Tim, we're here."

"Where?" Tim asked, as he had before.

"Pipestone National Monument."

Tim woke up, but it was clear that it was with reluctance. Tony almost felt bad about that. If Tim really wasn't sleeping at night, it was no wonder he'd become so run down.

"_How long as McGee been like this?" Gibbs asked._

"_Boss! I didn't know you'd be back!"_

"_How long has McGee been like this?"_

"_Like what?" Ziva asked. "He has been very focused on tracking down Dearing."_

"_Is he sleeping?"_

"_Not a lot," Tony said, "but I told him he needed to stop staying here overnight."_

"_He's been staying here overnight?"_

"_He was," Ziva said. "But Tony and I made sure he left after we noticed. He did not like leaving. He has been here first every day."_

"_I don't like it."_

"_He doesn't like the fact that Dearing might still be after you, Boss."_

"What are we doing here?"

"Look around the visitor's center. Take in some culture. Maybe buy a souvenir. Take a couple of pictures. You ready for that?"

"How long do we have to do this?"

"As long as it takes," Tony said firmly. "Let's go."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim got out of the car, wanting only to sleep some more. He felt that fuzzy edge that always accompanied too little sleep. He didn't understand what Tony was trying to do by taking him all these places...but so far as he could tell, after this, they had a long drive ahead of them. He could sleep a lot more after this.

He followed Tony inside the visitor's center...and in spite of himself, he was intrigued by what he was seeing. The pipestone. It was red and they really did carve the stone into some amazing things. He saw a small, carved turtle. Tony was taking pictures...of Tim and the displays in the visitor's center. Tim tried to ignore him. He walked over to a display with some pieces of pipestone...and hacksaws. The signs invited him to try cutting the pipestone. He bypassed that.

"Hey, McGee! Look! We can cut the rocks!" Tony said with all the giddiness of a kid. He set his camera down and picked up one of the hacksaws. "Take my picture, Tim!" he ordered.

Tim sighed, feeling like it was taking more energy than he had to act like a normal human being, but he picked up the camera and took Tony's picture as he wielded the saw, trying to cut the stone.

"Now, you try it, Tim," Tony said.

"I don't want to."

"Come on! Do it!"

Tim couldn't figure out why Tony was being so insistent. He'd been like this all around, and nothing Tim had tried had made Tony back off. ...and he had tried. He just wanted everyone to leave him alone until he could regain his equilibrium. Until he could forget that Dearing had been more omniscient and omnipotent than Gibbs and that he had used all his resources and all his abilities to destroy as much as he could.

Again, his felt his body tense up and he set the camera down to walk somewhere that would allow him to hide that from Tony.

"What's wrong, Tim?"

That same question, over and over. Tim hated that question because it told him that what he felt was not normal, was not acceptable and shouldn't be felt at all. He had been told that there was no reason to worry. Well, he _was_ worrying, and he was going to _keep_ worrying unless someone could give him a good reason why he shouldn't. ...and since there _wasn't_ a good reason to stop...

"I don't want to cut the rock, Tony," Tim said.

He walked away from the stone toward the displays of etched stone. He was tired. He didn't feel safe, and all he wanted was to get away.

The problem was that he didn't know what it was that he was trying to escape exactly...because, logically, he knew that Dearing was in prison and not likely to get out. ...but that didn't mean he'd stay there.

As he wandered around the visitor's center, he stopped paying any attention to the displays...until finally one pinged off his brain.

Someone had carved a replica of the _Enterprise_ out of the red pipestone. Captain Kirk's space ship was right there in front of him, rendered in pipestone. Who had done it? How had they managed all the details? It was absolutely amazing.

"How did they do that?" he murmured.

"I carved it."

Tim looked at the older man sitting on a chair beside the display. He was calmly carving a piece of pipestone.

"You did this?" Tim asked.

"Yes."

"How?"

The man smiled. "Patiently. It takes days to make a pipe well. A spaceship doesn't mean as much but it _is_ something that takes patience."

"It's amazing."

"Thank you."

The man went back to carving his pipe. Tim couldn't believe that he was just sitting there, carving a piece of _rock_. It wasn't wood. It was rock. Tim's thoughts wandered a bit. This man, at least, should be safe. Nothing to do with the Navy here. No reason for Dearing to come after _him_. He just carved pipestone. ...but then, who would have imagined that there could have been someone so bent on revenge that he would be willing to kill as many innocents as it took to do it?

Tim took a deep breath and walked into the gift shop. He wandered around, looking at the pieces for sale. Before he knew it, he'd purchased a small carved turtle.

"Tim. You bought something without me making you? Good job!"

Tim rolled his eyes.

"I was just talking to one of the employees. The rain last night flooded the trails; so we can't go to the waterfall that's nearby. ...but the quarries are right around here. They're starting to pump the water out so that they can get digging today. Want to go see?"

"Sure. Whatever," Tim said. That was his response whenever he wished there was something else he could say.

Tony led the way out of the visitor's center and they looked around at the quarries. They were just holes in the ground, but the interesting thing was that, unlike so many other sites, these were active quarries. In fact, a group of Lakota had just arrived and were preparing to remove some of the pipestone.

"You have to be a member of one of the local tribes in order to get a permit to quarry this stuff," Tony said.

"Oh."

It wasn't that he wasn't interested. He was, but Tim watched them, and it was like staring at a different world. A world without someone like Dearing in it. He envied them. He followed Tony around the trails near the visitor's center. They wound around the active quarries and a few unused ones. They had large piles of rock around them and enough room inside for maybe four or five people to work comfortably.

A different world.

"You ready to go?"

"Yes," Tim said instantly.

Tony seemed disappointed. Tim couldn't figure out why but he didn't see the point in asking. Tony didn't say anything, either. They just walked back to the car. Tim got in and looked forward to sleeping, but as they drove out, Tony suddenly pushed on the brakes.

"Look at that, Tim," he said in genuine surprise.

"What?" Tim asked.

"Those rocks. There's a sign. Three Maidens. They just look like rocks to me, not like girls at all. Let's look at them."

"We just did," Tim said, knowing he sounded petulant. He really wanted to get what sleep he could before he had to be on guard at night.

"_Closer_, Probie. Closer." Tony turned off the car and got out. Tim followed. Tony started reading a sign explaining what they were. "Glacial boulders. Huh. Never thought of glaciers this far south. Did you?"

Tim shrugged. It was too difficult to get his mind to dredge up whatever facts he might still know about glaciers in the U.S. The rocks _were_ interesting. They were larger than he was, but Tony was right. They didn't look like women. They were out of place for the geology of the area, and if the sign Tony had read was correct, they _were_ out of place. Glacial deposits left behind as the last glacial age had receded, leaving behind a lot of debris. It looked like someone had set out an offering of some kind on them. He wondered why. The Three Maidens were set fairly far off the road, but they clearly meant something to these people. He wondered if the man who was carving had left the offering...or maybe the people going to work in the quarry had.

"Go stand in front of them, Probie."

"Why do you want these pictures, Tony?"

"Because we need to document the trip, McGee."

"Why?"

"Because I said so, McCrabby. Go on."

Tim decided it wasn't worth fighting about. He trudged over and stood in front of the large rocks. Tony took a picture and then let him get back in the car. Relieved, Tim reclined the seat and fell asleep almost instantly. Sleep. Blessed sleep he could get at no other time...only when it was safe.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony sighed as Tim closed his eyes once again. That Tim was tired, he didn't doubt, but he couldn't figure out his behavior. He had seemed interested in things. He had even bought a carving...but he was still so moody. Tony wasn't sure when to implement the next step of his plan...but Tim needed sleep right now. A lot more than he was getting.

"_Tim, you look so tired! Maybe you should take a nap," Abby said. After letting everyone fawn over her, she was happy to fawn over Tim with his silences and the dark circles under his eyes._

"_I don't need a nap, Abby," Tim said. "We just need to find Dearing."_

"_Well, if that's what it will take, then I'm right on it! I want to get him, too. Major Mass Spec will never be the same after what he did."_

_Tim smiled a little...the first smile he'd expressed in days._

"_I'm glad you're back, Abbs."_

"_Me, too, Tim! I missed everyone! Even if we're not back in the building yet, we _will_ be. That's good enough."_

_Tony saw Tim nod but not very happily as Abby got to work, looking through the material Tim had tried to gather. The scars on her arms and face were still prominent and she had a brace on her leg, but it was Abby. She didn't let that kind of thing hold her back. Still, Tim looked at her, almost as if he was making sure she didn't disappear._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

As Tony drove and Tim slept, signs began to appear advertising for Wall Drug. They made Tony smile. This was one of the things he'd been looking forward to during the long drive across South Dakota. He'd heard about the incessant Wall Drug signs. The perfect way to build people up to what was, essentially, a tourist trap.

...but interspersed with the Wall Drug signs was a sign for something called the Corn Palace. In fact, it was supposed to be "The World's Only Corn Palace!". It sounded intriguing to him. What did that even mean?

"Hey, Tim!"

Tim groaned and woke up.

"What?"

"Let's go to the Corn Palace!"

"NO!" Tim said loudly, sitting up and looking strangely-infuriated. "The Jolly Green Giant, Walnut Grove...just get to whatever comes next on this stupid trip so that it can get _over_ and I can get back to work!"

"Whoa! What's that coming from, Tim?" Tony asked, surprised at Tim's vehemence.

"It's coming from the fact that you're waking me up to tell me that we should see some stupid building made out of corn! What's the point?"

"It's _supposed_ to be fun, Tim," Tony said mildly. "But if that's a foreign concept to you, feel free to go back to sleep."

Tim looked at him for a few seconds...and then, he lay down and slept. Tony rolled his eyes. His patience was running out, even allowing for Tim's obvious instability. But he didn't take the exit for Mitchell. He just stayed on I-90, looking at the signs for Wall Drug. For a moment, he felt rather sad that this thing he had been looking forward to for more years than he'd admit was kind of tarnished by Tim's attitude.

_I can see this again. It's not like the signs will disappear._

Still, the first time across South Dakota, seeing signs like _Wall Drug as told by Good Morning America_ or _Free Ice Water at Wall Drug_ wasn't nearly as fun when his only traveling companion seemed to be on the verge of a break down.

Another one.

Tony smiled at another sign.

_Badlands Then Wall Drug_

That was his next goal. No way was Tim keeping him from seeing the Badlands.

"_Tim, you need to take a break. We're all back and working on it."_

"_Not all of us," Tim said. "Ducky's not back."_

"_But he will be, and the whole team is here. Jimmy's doing a good job. Abby's on a roll," Tony said. "You don't have to kill yourself to find Dearing. We're all trying."_

"_And will we find him before or after he kills someone else?" Tim asked and strode away._

_Tony sighed and then grimaced as Tim headed down the hall. Vance came around the corner from his temporary office. Tony would be glad when headquarters was fixed. He didn't like that Vance could suddenly appear without warning, especially when Tony was trying to get at the bottom of what was eating at Tim...when he was supposed to be focused on finding Dearing._

"_Agent McGee, are you all right?" Vance asked._

_Tony was shaken out of his thoughts at Vance's question. He started down the hall toward Vance who had a look of deep concern on his face. _

_Then, before he could reach them, Tim staggered and collapsed to the floor. Vance dropped to his knees almost instantly. He looked at Tony._

"_Agent DiNozzo, call for assistance."_

Driving across South Dakota was not the most exciting thing he'd ever done. With Tim slumbering away in the passenger seat, even the Wall Drug signs lost their appeal after an hour or two. Finally, he pulled out his phone and called the outside world.

"_Tony. I did not expect to hear from you,"_ Ziva said. Her tone was light, but Tony could hear the hope in her voice.

"South Dakota is boring and McGee's asleep," Tony said.

"_How is he doing?"_

"He's worse than I thought he was."

"_How?"_

Tony glanced over at Tim. He was snoring slightly. Definitely asleep.

"He's not sleeping at all at night but he is most of the day. There was a moment...I actually thought he was scared of something, but...but it didn't make sense at all in the context of where we were."

"_Where were you?"_

"In a visitor's center, looking at a display on how to carve pipestone."

"_And he would not tell you why?"_

"Of course not. That would be too easy...but I'm starting to get frustrated."

"_Only now? I would have thought that would have come much earlier."_

"Ha ha. If I wasn't sure that there's something else going on, I'd have smacked him a long time ago. At best, he's crabby. At worst, he's being kind of a jerk."

"_What are you going to do?"_

"Keep on with it. Don't see that there are many other choices."

"_You could come back here and have him talk to someone again."_

"Didn't help the first time."

"_That does not mean it will fail every time."_

"Yeah, well, I'm skeptical."

"_He may _need_ that kind of help, you know."_

"It's not going to help if he won't tell anyone about it. He hasn't so far. Do _you_ want to see him like that again?"

"_No. No, I do not want that...but are you sure this will help?"_

"No...but he's talked a _little_ more. I may wear him down."

"_He does not need to be more worn down than he is."_

"Yeah. I know."

"_Tony..."_

"Hey...would you ask Gibbs if he threatened to fire Tim sometime when we weren't around?"

"_He would not have done that."_

"That's what I thought, too, but Tim seems pretty sure that the only reason he still has a job is because he agreed to come on this trip with me."

"_I will ask him. You could ask him yourself, you know."_

"I know."

"_I will let you know what I find."_

"Thanks. I'd better focus more on the road. Talk to you later."

"_Good-bye, Tony."_

Tony set his phone down and stared out the windshield. Somehow, in his head, this had been more successful. Once Tim wasn't at work, feeling like he had to perform to some standard, he'd open up and explain himself. The problem was that, once Gibbs had told Tim he was taking time off, Tim had stopped trying to do _anything_. He just seemed to be sitting around... only with some hidden thoughts churning unceasingly around in his head. Tony knew that there had to be because he'd never seen Tim _without_ thoughts churning unceasingly around in his head.

...well, almost never...

_Tony ran into the makeshift bullpen._

"_Boss, McGee is..."_

"_Abby has tracked down Dearing!" Ziva said at the same moment._

"_Where?" Tony asked._

"_All that stuff that Abby has been going through. She was able to pin down his IP address or something like that."_

_Gibbs nodded and then looked at Tony, raising his eyebrows._

"_McGee just collapsed out in the hall. Vance is with him and there's an ambulance coming."_

"_What happened?" Ziva asked._

"_I don't know. He was walking and then he fell."_

_Gibbs actually looked torn for a moment. Dearing or Tim?_

"_He's not alone?"_

"_No. Vance is with him."_

"_We'll make sure he's okay," Agent Lovitz said, standing up from his desk. "You guys go get that lowlife. Make sure he pays for what he's done. If he gets hurt somehow, I wouldn't complain."_

Tony drove for another hour and then his phone rang. He looked over at Tim. Tim shifted slightly and mumbled but he didn't wake up. Tony sighed with relief and answered.

"_Tony, Ziva said you had a question?"_

"Boss...I thought she was just going to call me back."

"_I didn't threaten to fire McGee. I didn't talk to him besides when we were all there in the room. You know everything I've said to him already."_

"So...why would he assume that you were going to fire him?"

"_I'm not McGee. You'll have to ask him."_

"I'm trying, Boss. Maybe my idea wasn't a good one."

"_Better than letting him sit around in his apartment getting worse."_

"I guess."

"_He's not alone, Tony. That's important."_

"I just don't know what to do, Boss. I've tried to let him talk, but he won't. Everything I thought might work...isn't working."

"_Just keep it up. No sense in giving up in the middle of South Dakota."_

Tony chuckled. "Guess not. We're going to the Badlands next."

"_That's pretty much where he is already, you know."_

Tony blinked. "Hadn't really thought of it that way, Boss."

"_What way?"_

"Tim's already in the Badlands. Maybe I can get him out of them."

"_Worth a try."_

"Thanks."

"_Don't get in an accident."_

"Right. Bye."

Tony hung up again and refocused on the road. He drove for another twenty minutes and then Tim started mumbling in his sleep. Then, he sat up quickly and looked around.

"Where are we?" he whispered.

"Almost to the Badlands. What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Nightmare?"

"Nothing," Tim said again.

"You're totally lying, Tim."

"Tony, just..." He stopped and stared out the window. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because, believe it or not, in spite of how jerky you're being, I'm trying to help."

"Help with what? Keeping me away from NCIS? Stopping me from working? How are you helping?"

"By trying to get you to tell me what's wrong! ...and don't even _think_ of denying that there's something wrong. Everyone can see it. It's just that you haven't been able to hide it as well since you collapsed."

Tim seemed embarrassed by the reminder. Tony decided to press it. Maybe this was his chance.

"You weren't sleeping, Tim! You were apparently barely _eating_! This is _not_ normal behavior, not even for a weird guy like you! What is going on in your _head_? Because we're trying to figure it out and we _can't_! We don't want to see that happen again. Ever. It was bad enough that you were unconscious in the hospital for two days after the bomb went off. To see you collapse...without realizing that there was that much of a problem... Tim, there's got to be something wrong!"

"There's the exit," Tim said.

"What?"

"For the Badlands."

"Oh."

Tony was irritated that he was distracted by getting off I-90. Still, he took the exit and headed for the entrance. After the rain the day before and because of the fact that it was early in the summer, there was no real competition. Tony drove to the first overlook: the Big Badlands Overlook. After the heavy rains the day before, there was now bright sunlight. Tim didn't protest getting out of the car. They walked to the overlook.

Barren would be the word to describe what they were seeing. Tony had never been here and it was a shock. But there was more to it than just being barren. Here and there across the mounds of slowly-eroding rock were tufts of grass that looked all the greener for being in the midst of something that seemed completely dead.

Tim stood next to him, staring out at it...and Tony thought that if there was any melodrama inside him, he would say that this was an expression of Tim's own status. Dead with some tufts of green life.

"Wow," he said. "This is pretty amazing."

"Yeah."

Tim even forgot to be irritating about pictures. Of course, Tony didn't ask him to pose. He just took his picture. There was no one around but them, and Tony was getting the feeling that Tim wasn't really there either. Suddenly, Tim took that deep breath and turned away from the view. He started to walk back to the car.

"Tim, what's going on?" Tony asked.

"Nothing."

"That was not _nothing_. Stop saying it's nothing. You're driving me crazy!"

"Then, let me go back to DC," Tim said. "Do you expect me to be sorry about that? You're forcing me to do this."

"You agreed!"

"_McGee, what happened?" Gibbs asked._

_They had just finished processing Dearing and putting him in holding...as quickly as they could. He seemed to be unconcerned with his certain incarceration. It was all any of them could do not to kill him on the spot...or at least punch him in his smug little face. For now that was on hold as they checked on Tim to find out what had happened._

"_You got him?" Tim asked._

"_Yeah. What happened to you?" Tony asked._

"_You're sure he's not going to get away?"_

"_McGee, what's going on with you?" Gibbs asked._

"_He hasn't been taking care of himself."_

_Tim dropped his eyes as his doctor came into the room._

"_He's lucky all he did was collapse. If this had happened when he was alone, he could have been much worse off."_

"_What's going on?" Gibbs asked again._

"_I was trying to help."_

"_By running yourself on fumes? How does that _help_ us, McGee?" Gibbs asked. "That didn't help. Running yourself into the ground didn't help us. You need to get this in hand. You can't work like this."_

_Tim looked at him. "What do you mean?"_

"_I mean that you're taking a break, McGee. You're not working until you're ready to."_

"_This was just..."_

"_It was stupid and dangerous," Gibbs said, his voice tightly controlled. "That's what it was and I'm not standing for it. There are too many people who have risked their lives, too many who could have lost their lives, who _have_ and_ _I'm not letting you do it for nothing."_

"I agreed to keep Gibbs from firing me."

"He wasn't threatening to fire you! What is wrong with you? Stop saying it's nothing because it's not!"

Tim started to walk away, but Tony wasn't letting it stop here. Tim had come close to saying something. He sprinted to catch up with Tim and he stopped him from leaving. He grabbed Tim by the arm.

"Don't you touch me, Tony," Tim said. "Leave me alone."

"No. Not anymore. You're going to tell me what's going on. We're not leaving until you do."

"Then, I'll walk."

"No, you won't. I won't let you."

Tim seemed utterly infuriated which gave Tony a measure of satisfaction because he was irritated, too. He was glad Tim wasn't happy about this.

"Tony, if you don't let me go, I'm going to hit you."

"Go ahead. Try it, McGee."

Tim tried to pull away, but Tony's grip wasn't light. He was planning on _forcing_ Tim to stay there if he had to.

"Stop acting like a complete _idiot_, McGee!"

"Don't call me an idiot!"

"Then, stop acting like one! Just tell me what's wrong!"

Tim wrenched his arm away and then shoved Tony as hard as he could. Tony wasn't ready for that and he hit the hard ground...and he felt it.

"I'm terrified, okay?" Tim shouted at him. "I can't sleep at night because I'm afraid! I can't stop _being_ afraid! ...and clearly, it's completely wrong and stupid and illogical and...but I can't help it!"

"Why not?" Tony asked.

"Because I'm incompetent! Because I can't do it right!"

"Do _what_, Tim? What are you talking about?"

"I nearly killed myself trying to find him! Trying to stop him from killing anyone else...and nothing I did could be enough. Nothing I did helped. Nothing I did was going to stop him. Gibbs came back and then he was caught! ...but in my head...even though I know it's not true...he's still there! Dearing is still out there and he's still waiting to do something else. At any moment, we'll suddenly find out that he's not really in prison, that he's free, that he's ready to kill other innocent people to get revenge for the death of his son. It doesn't matter who the people are. He just wants to kill. ...and I'm not good enough to find him and stop him. If it's up to me, it's not going to happen. More people will die. The least I can do is...is stay awake and watch, keep on guard so that...when it happens, I can get the people who can do the job. So that no one else will die because of how incompetent I am."

Tim stared up at the sky for a few seconds and then walked away from where Tony was sitting stunned...for more reasons than one. Where had all this come from? What had Tim thinking he couldn't do anything? ...and why had no one realized how much of a monster Dearing had become in Tim's head? _Why_ had Dearing become such a monster?

And what in the world was Tony going to do to help that kind of problem? How in the world could he get Tim out of this dark place?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Tony was sitting with Gibbs, Ziva and Abby. They were all shocked by Tim's collapse and his subsequent refusal to accept the idea of taking a break. Catching Dearing, as important as it was, took a back seat to Tim's problems._

"_Tim was acting kind of weird," Abby said, "but I didn't know he was that bad!"_

"_Wasn't he talking to anyone?" Gibbs asked._

"_Yeah," Tony said. "I don't know what exactly he was doing there, but he had his required debriefing after he woke up...and he had a...at least a few meetings with the shrink. He didn't tell me what he said."_

"_He did not like to talk about it," Ziva said. "I asked him how it was. I did not realize that it was so serious. He said that it was more important to find Dearing."_

"_Well, it's pretty clear to me that the shrink didn't help him at all," Tony said._

"_Perhaps this is a newer problem."_

"_What _will_ help this?" Abby asked. "I mean...Gibbs and I came back to work and we weren't..."_

"_Don't start that, Abbs," Gibbs said. "We don't need it."_

"_Sorry, Gibbs."_

"_Maybe he needs a vacation," Tony said._

"_A vacation?" Ziva asked._

"_Yeah. He's run down. He's not thinking well. He needs to get away."_

"_I don't know that I'd trust him on vacation by himself," Abby said. "Not like this."_

"_I'll go with him. A road trip!"_

"_What?" Ziva asked. "You? Do you think that will be relaxing?"_

"_Totally. McGee and I can hang out and have fun. Just takes a little bit of effort."_

"_Are you sure about this?" Gibbs asked._

"_Well...no, but it wouldn't hurt to try, would it?"_

Tony got carefully to his feet. Tim had walked back toward the overlook, not to the car. He was standing ramrod straight, his hands clenched into fists by his side. Tony walked over beside him. Tim didn't look away from the view of the Badlands.

"Why are you so afraid of Dearing, McGee?" Tony asked.

Tim turned and started to walk away from him. Tony realized how that must have sounded to the person who had twisted Gibbs' concern about his ability to work into a threat of being fired.

"Hey, Tim. Wait."

Tim stopped walking...but he kept himself facing away.

"It was a real question. You know he's in prison, but you said you're still afraid that he's out there. Why?"

"I don't know," Tim said. "It's stupid. That's all. I'm just stupid."

"No. That's not it...mostly because I know you're not stupid. I mean...you said that you can't sleep because you feel like someone has to be watching for him. Why?"

"Because he's everywhere. Even when people weren't really trying to help him, they still helped him hide. A man is embezzling company funds and doesn't want us to find out; so he sends us on a wild goose chase that lets Dearing get even further ahead. He picks out people on the fringes to do his dirty work. He succeeds. He was always ahead of me. Nothing I could do helped us get any closer."

"Yeah, you did," Tony said. "Where do you think Abby got most of that stuff she was using to find him? From you."

"Nothing I did helped. I just had to hand it over to someone who could do it."

"You were hardly at your best."

"What does it matter?" Tim asked, shaking his head. "Best or worst...Dearing is still better. The rest of you are all fine. Gibbs and Abby could have been killed. Ducky nearly died. ...but it's me who has the problem. He got to me and he won..." Tim laughed. "...and he wasn't even trying. He doesn't know who I am. He doesn't know what I do. I'm not important to him, but he still managed to ruin me without trying to do it."

Tim turned around, desolation on his face.

"How do we fight against someone who can win without even trying? Sure, he's in prison now, but then he'll get out and..."

"...and what, Tim?" Tony asked. "Is that what you've been thinking on this trip? Is that what you were thinking in Pipestone?"

"Maybe."

"What were you thinking, then?" Tony asked.

Tim was finally talking, finally saying _something_ that had meaning. Tony wanted to keep that up. Even if it turned out that he couldn't help, getting Tim to open up was an important step.

"I was looking at the carvings, the guy doing them. I was thinking that it was pretty cool what he was doing. Then, I thought about how he'd probably be safe from Dearing since he had nothing to do with the Navy." Tim swallowed and looked down. "...and then, I thought about how Dearing didn't seem to care about that kind of thing and he probably wouldn't hesitate to kill that man just because he could. I'm sure he could justify it to himself...or maybe he wouldn't bother. Maybe he'd just want to start killing for fun."

"And that's how you're thinking every time?" Tony asked, his brow furrowing.

"Yeah."

"And at night?"

"I know that _I_ can't do anything, but if he gets away, if he shows up, I can maybe live long enough to tell someone else. ...like that flash drive. All the information I was backing up...I couldn't do anything useful with it, but I could hand it off."

"Useful? Tim, you found a whole bunch of things that helped us out."

"Couldn't do anything with them." Tim sighed. "Tony, you don't have to tell me that I'm being stupid. I know. I know it doesn't make sense. I know that no one else feels this way. Why do you think I kept all this to myself? No one else needs to know about it because it's not like you can logically make me feel any better. It's not like there's any use in trying to fix it because my head is all messed up. I know it is, but I feel like I'm staring at the world from...somewhere else. From the moment I woke up in the hospital and felt like someone had stolen the world from me..."

"What do you mean?" Tony asked. He had to admit that he was having a hard time following what in the world Tim was saying.

"I remember staying behind as everyone was leaving, trying to make sure that we didn't lose everything we'd found out about Dearing. He's been so far ahead of us, I figured that if we lost what we'd got so far, we'd never have a chance. Then, there were all those people by the windows...and the bomb... The windows blew in. It hit them first. Then, me. ...and when I woke up...it was gone. It was like I'd lost everything."

"But you hadn't. We found the flash drive. We took it so that it wouldn't get lost."

"Don't you see, Tony? I know. I _know_ that...but I can't accept it. I don't know why. I just...I think of that and every time I think of the possibility of Dearing getting away, I almost can't breathe. It took so much to catch up to him...and even then, we didn't catch him. Then, it took me being out of the way to get him."

"What?"

Tim looked out at the view of the Badlands.

"You couldn't find him until I was not there."

Tony couldn't help it. He laughed.

"You've got to be kidding me, Tim. It had nothing to do with you collapsing. It was a coincidence."

"Gibbs doesn't believe in coincidences."

"Doesn't mean he's right."

"Gibbs is always right."

Tony had no problem laughing about that.

"Come on, McGee. You know he's not. _He_ knows he's not."

Then, Tony saw that Tim wasn't finding it funny. This wasn't a joke to Tim. For whatever reason, he really was that screwed up. He took a breath and walked over.

"You know what, Tim?"

"What?"

"You didn't have to hide all that from us. Sure, I don't understand it, but...but if it's something you're having a hard time with, you shouldn't feel like you can't tell anyone. ...and you know what else?"

Tim laughed a little.

"What?"

"I'll bet that part of the reason for the way you're thinking is because you're not sleeping. If you're not sleeping at night...how can you possibly be thinking straight?"

"I'm sleeping during the day...when it's safe."

"You're not sleeping very long or very deeply. So...tonight, you're going to sleep."

"No, Tony. I told you. I can't sleep at night. Just saying that I'm having a problem isn't going to make me better."

"I know. So...tonight, you're going to sleep and I stand guard."

Tim shook his head. "No. It doesn't work like that."

"Why not?"

"Because you're the one who has to drive."

"I know. We'll take an extra day and let you do some sleeping while I watch...and then, I'll get my sleep the next night."

"Tony..."

"Tim, I can't do everything that you need to have someone do. So something has to give. If you need a night to sleep, then, you'll get a night to sleep. That's how it's going to be."

Tim sighed.

"And no protesting."

"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep even if you're supposedly..."

"Hey, you don't trust me?"

"Maybe not."

"Have I done anything to deserve that?"

Tim shook his head. "No, you haven't. Actually...I'm surprised you haven't lost it with me yet. I deserve it."

Tony grinned. "Yeah, you do...but that's okay."

Tim laughed a little.

"We're going to try to get you to sleep tonight, but we're still in the Badlands. You okay with seeing some more of it?"

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you bothering?"

"Because...I told you before. You're my friend, Tim. Friends don't give up on friends...even if they deserve it."

"I don't know why I'm like this," Tim said with the air of a shameful confession.

"Neither do I. That's okay. We'll figure it out...back in DC...after we get back from the road trip."

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Tim asked. "Me to confess how messed up I am?"

"Oh, that was just a little part of it. I really just wanted to see this stuff...and helping you gave me a good excuse."

Tim smiled.

"You ready to see some more of the Badlands?"

"I guess so."

"Good. So stop trying to be a jerk. I know that you're having problems and I know that I can't solve them...and they're nothing to be embarrassed about. So you can just try to have fun. You may not be able to every time, but you can try, can't you?"

"You know...it's easier just being a jerk. No probing. No questions. Just..."

"Just wallowing in the things aren't making you happy anyway."

"I know. I know." Tim cleared his throat and looked away for a moment.

Tony put his arm around Tim's shoulders and led him back toward the car.

"Come on, Probie. Let's see the Badlands."

"They can't get much worse, can they," Tim said with a weak smile.

"Well, they're _bad_ but they're not _worse_. If they were they'd be called the _Worse_lands."

"That...is a terrible joke, Tony."

"You started it."

Tim nodded and then took a deep breath.

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"What was it this time?"

"Thinking about how things could be worse."

"You have too much imagination."

"I know."

That was all. Tony could see that Tim wasn't going to be fixed with one conversation. He wasn't going to be fixed by going to Wall Drug. ...but this was the start that he needed...being able to open up about what his problem was so that there was no hiding it any longer.

They got back in the car and headed to the next stop. It was a wide area with mounds that were almost-white, granular sedimentary rock. There were a couple of cars there and some people climbing on the rocks. Tony dragged Tim along to do the same...and he saw Tim bite back a comment.

"Don't think about it, Tim. Just enjoy the view."

"Trying. Failing." That was all.

"Keep trying...and come on up here! There's a really nice view out over this part of the park."

Tim scrambled up beside him, although he looked tired by the climb, short as it was. Tony figured that was due to his sleeping problems as much as anything else. When Tim reached the level portion, he joined Tony looking out over the eroded mesas, deep gullies and ravines. The hills had striations in the coloring from near white to red...along with the green grass that stood out everywhere it grew.

"It's beautiful," Tim said softly.

"It's cool, but I don't know that I'd call it pretty."

"The contrasting colors...life in the midst of what looks barren. ...and yeah...a part of me thinks that he'll show up and destroy it."

"He won't."

"Doesn't matter."

"I know."

They slipped and slid back down to ground level and then walked around a short trail that led them around through some of the rock formations. The rocks here were less colorful, but amazingly shaped. Untold millennia of erosion had whittled away the softer sediments leaving behind a continually-changing landscape of what looked almost like sand dunes frozen in place. Life found in the greenery, surrounded by an arid landscape.

Life in the midst of death...or so it seemed.

They stopped briefly at the visitor's center and then left, heading for I-90. If he could have, Tony would have gone and looked at other things, but Tim was starting to wilt, his meager energy reserves depleted by the limited physical activity. So they drove to Wall, South Dakota. It was big enough to have a few hotels and they picked one at random. The room was adequate. Tony made sure that Tim ate dinner and then, as soon as it started to get dimmer outside, he ordered Tim to get into bed.

"It won't work, Tony."

"You're almost asleep already. You sleep. I'll stay awake and watch. I may even turn on the TV."

Tim shook his head, skeptical in spite of his obvious exhaustion.

"Yes, McGee. I'm not accepting any other answer. Go to sleep. You have nothing to worry about. I'm on guard duty tonight."

"You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do. Go to sleep. Or at least lay down, close your eyes and pretend you're going to sleep."

Tim did as ordered...and although his eyes opened off and on for the next hour, eventually, his breathing evened out and he was asleep. Snoring, in fact.

Tony smiled and settled back in anticipation of a long night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"_Tim, you and me are going on vacation."_

_Tim furrowed his brow. He wasn't sure if it was his current state that was making him confused or if Tony was genuinely not making sense._

"_Gibbs said that you're not in any condition to work. You need a break. So we're going on a road trip!"_

"_I don't want to go on vacation, Tony," Tim said. "I'm fine."_

"_No, you're not. You've been running yourself into the ground trying to get stuff done. Well, we've got Dearing. So you can take a break."_

"_I don't need a break!"_

"_Gibbs says you do."_

"_I can't go back to work, even when they release me?"_

"_Nope. You're going to take a break, no matter what you say."_

_Tim sighed._

"_What do you say, Tim? I can't afford a vacation in Europe or anywhere, but we can take a road trip. The Midwest has loads of weird things to see."_

_Tim couldn't think of anything he wanted to do less...except maybe see Dearing again._

"_I don't have much of a choice, I guess."_

"_Well, you _can_ say no, but you've got a free vacation to see Wall Drug!"_

_Tim sighed and leaned back. Gibbs had made this the requirement. He couldn't work if he didn't do this. He had no choice._

"_Fine. Fine, Tony. Whatever."_

A long night, it was. Tony started watching TV around midnight. One of the stations was showing a marathon of _Route 66_ which Tony found incredibly appropriate for his current situation.

In spite of his declaration, Tim slept deeply. Most of the night anyway. Around two in the morning, he started shifting around in bed, not talking, but making some noise. Tony didn't want him to wake up because he was certain that if Tim woke up, he'd be insistent that he couldn't sleep and he wouldn't even try. Tony muted the TV and walked over to Tim's bed.

"Hey, McGee, no need to freak out," he said, keeping his voice low. He didn't want to help Tim wake up. He wanted him to get back to sleep.

Tim tossed and turned and was almost saying words but not quite.

"I'm on guard duty, tonight, Tim. You have nothing to worry about. Dearing's in jail and he's not getting out. And even if he did, he's not going to come out here. And he's not getting out anyway; so it doesn't matter. Just stay asleep. You're hard to deal with when you're not getting enough sleep." Tony grinned. "You just don't have the _oomph_ for it. So stay asleep and let me watch my marathon."

Tim's eyes opened slightly, and Tony put his hand over them, keeping the flickering light of the TV from getting in. He put his other hand on Tim's arm, keeping a light grip to get Tim to stop shifting.

"Everything's okay, Tim. No worries. Just keep your eyes closed. Stay asleep. All is well. ...even if that sounds really lame, it's still true."

After a few minutes, Tim subsided and sank back into a deeper sleep. Tony counted it a major success that he'd managed to keep Tim from waking up. He quietly crept back to his own bed and turned back to _Route 66_. The volume was really low. Tony started feeling droopy around three a.m. ...but he tried to stay awake if only because of his promise.

...but the night was really long...

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim woke up with a beam of light shining right in his eyes. He blinked, not really wanting to wake up.

...and then, with a stab of terror, he thought about what he might have missed, what terrible things might have happened while he'd slept. He sat up quickly and looked around trying to find any sign of danger. Then, he realized where he was and he furrowed his brow...and then, he couldn't help smiling a little.

Tony was asleep. The TV was still on at a very low volume...and it was drowned out by Tony's snoring.

Suddenly, a part of Tim was infuriated that Tony would let down his guard. What if something had happened in the night? What if he had been needed? He was angry that he had trusted Tony and Tony had still fallen asleep.

...but then, he told himself that nothing had happened, that he knew nothing _would_ happen, that Tony had probably stayed up for a long time before succumbing. Clearly, he had tried to stay awake. The TV wouldn't be on otherwise. He took a few deep breaths, trying not to overreact...which he knew that he was at the moment. Still, there was that feeling of powerlessness that threatened to overwhelm him.

Tim got out of bed and hurried into the bathroom, remembering at the last second _not_ to slam the door. He locked himself into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet, trying to get himself under control. This wasn't the first time he'd felt like this. It was why he had stopped even _trying_ to sleep at night. He would wake up feeling like the world was about to end because he'd let down his guard and it was too much for him to deal with. So he'd stopped sleeping and had taken up guard duty.

As he sat there, trying to calm himself down, he closed his eyes and tried to fool himself into thinking that everything was okay.

_Why am I like this?_ Tim asked himself.

Tony had said it was okay, but it _wasn't_. It wasn't okay that he was acting like a child scared of monsters in the closet. He _hated_ that he felt this way.

There was a knock on the door.

"Tim?"

Tim was embarrassed by how he was feeling. This was one of the reasons he wanted to keep people away from him and keep himself away from people. Not only was he afraid, he was also ashamed.

"Tim...I'm sorry I fell asleep, man. I don't know how you managed to stay awake every night."

Tim winced. Tony had been so understanding all through this and Tim knew he didn't deserve it. The tightness in his stomach increased, now because of his humiliation and his shame.

"Go away," he whispered. Tony was only making him feel worse here.

Another knock.

"Tim, are you all right in there?"

Tim turned on the faucet, wanting to drown out Tony's voice.

"McGee, if you don't say something, I'm breaking down the door."

Tim tried to stop the feeling so that he could say something, but he couldn't. ...and true to his word, Tony kicked opened the door. Tim looked at him for a second and then closed his eyes. He stiffened when he felt Tony grab his arms.

"Okay, Tim. What's going on? Is this because I fell asleep?"

"Yes... No...I'm messed up. That's all. Doesn't matter."

"Did you sleep all right?"

Tim laughed a little.

"Yeah. I did. ...waking up was bad."

He heard Tony chuckle. "Well, I hated waking up, too. A few hours of sleep, definitely not enough."

Another laugh...but Tim wished he was a crying person right now.

"So...you ready for breakfast?" Tony asked, his voice casual.

"I guess."

"Great! You want to shower first?"

"Sure."

"Okay. You do that and then, I'll shower...and then, we'll head to Wall Drug for breakfast."

"Wall Drug?" Tim asked. The tension was easing...in large part because Tony wasn't making a big deal about Tim's obvious meltdown.

"Sure! It's the end of the line for us. Wall Drug is the ultimate tourist trap, but they have five-cent coffee and there are doughnuts and stuff for sale, too. They probably cost more than the coffee."

Tim opened his eyes and nodded.

"I'm sure," he said.

"Okay. So you get to showering and I'll make sure I can get us there."

"Okay."

Tony left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Tim sighed. Wall Drug. Right. He got up and got ready to shower.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony let out a whoosh of air. That had been a surprise, and he _had_ felt bad about falling asleep. It had been an accident. But to see Tim sitting on the toilet, as close to freaking out as he'd ever seen him, was not something he'd been ready for. All the better that he'd been able to get Tim to talk about it. Actually, he should call back to DC and let everyone know. He dialed Gibbs' number, wanting to be quick. While Tim had talked, Tony wasn't sure that he would be happy to hear the report.

"_Gibbs."_

"Hey, Boss. I got Tim to start talking a bit."

"_And?"_

"And he's really messed up. He's terrified of Dearing, afraid that he's going to get out. Dearing's become his...monster under the bed. He said he didn't talk about it because he's ashamed of it...but he feels like he needs to stay awake all night. I got him to sleep last night but that was by _me_ staying up. So...when we head back, I'm going to have to sleep...which means Tim won't."

"_Okay. I'll talk to his therapist, get everything ready. Is it worth it?"_

Tony grinned. "Yeah. The Badlands was pretty cool."

Gibbs chuckled and hung up. Tony just hoped that all would be well until they got back. At least, now that he knew something of what the problem was, he could take steps to help Tim out.

...and maybe he could even have a little bit of fun. Tony happened to think that getting Tim to relax enough to enjoy himself would be a help in and of itself.

So when they'd both finished getting ready, Tony drove them over to Wall Drug.

They found a parking place and headed to the entrance.

"This is a lot bigger than a drug store," Tim said.

"Yeah. It is."

Tony was surprised, too. This wasn't a store. It was an entire block, it seemed. Covered alleyways were lined with humorous statues and stores full of touristy things. Tony glanced at Tim and saw interest and surprise...without any sign of fear. He didn't know how long that would last, but maybe all the glitz would distract him from his own brain for a while.

"This is insane," Tim said...but with a little smile on his face.

"Yeah. Fun, though. Where do you think the five-cent coffee is?"

"I've never been here before, Tony."

"Right. Well...let's start walking. It's not like this is downtown New York. It's Wall, South Dakota."

Tim actually laughed and nodded. They started to walk...but Tony quickly saw the photo-taking opportunities.

"Tim, look at this lady!"

Tim walked over and looked. It was a statue of an old woman sitting on a bench, smoking a cigar, holding a hand of cards. Tim's face scrunched up in surprise.

"What is _this_?"

"A chance for a picture! Sit down!"

Proving that there had been some kind of change, even if it wasn't enough, Tim rolled his eyes and sat down.

"Come on, Probie! She's a lady! Treat her like one."

Tim looked the statue with exaggerated horror. Tony laughed and took a few pictures.

"Okay. Now, it's my turn!" Tony handed off the camera and took a seat beside the statue. He edged himself close to her, put an arm around her and faked kissing her on the cheek. Then, he stood up. "You'd better have got that, Tim."

Tim smiled. "I got it. Now, I know what your type is: cigar-smoking hags."

Tony laughed. "That's it."

They kept walking, and finally found the Western Art Gallery Café where the famed five-cent coffee was. To their surprise, there was no cashier, no place to order. Just a box with a slot on a counter.

"You got any nickels?" Tony asked.

Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out some change.

"I don't know why I have this."

He dropped a dime into the box. They both got their cups of coffee and sipped.

"It's hot," Tim said.

"Freshly-made," Tony said.

They sipped a few more times.

"This is cheap coffee."

"Very," Tony agreed. "But it only cost us five cents."

"True. Good thing."

"Don't knock cheap coffee, Probie."

"I'm not knocking...just saying what it is. I think I need a donut."

"With sprinkles?"

"Either way."

"Okay. You realize that we have to get souvenirs for everyone here."

"I hadn't, but I guess I do now."

"I'm thinking...t-shirts."

"Okay."

They found some donuts and started walking around some more. They found their way to what was called the Back Yard. Interested, they investigated and found a large jackalope with a conveniently placed saddle for riding (Tony got on it.), a horse, again with a saddle (Tony made Tim get on it.), a stuffed gorilla playing a piano (Tony put the quarter in to make it go.), a model of Mt. Rushmore, and the famed ice water (Tim said it wasn't particularly icy.). All in all, the Back Yard was probably more for kids but Tony had a blast. ...and if Tim wasn't having as much fun, he hadn't yet had one of those moments that were so disturbing. Then, they discovered the Back Yard Mall.

"Wow. Does this place ever _end_?" Tim asked.

"I'm sure it must eventually," Tony said.

"I think I see a t-shirt store."

"Ah, excellent. Let's go."

Tim followed Tony into a t-shirt shop. That was almost _all_ it was. Just t-shirts and hats. Everywhere. They started looking through the options. They decided to get a black one which read _Where the HECK is Wall Drug?_ for Abby. Tony made Tim get one that read _Free Ice Water_ with a picture of the Statue of Liberty on it. They got a couple that just read _Wall Drug_ with different iterations. Then, they took a risk and bought a pink t-shirt/hat combo for Ziva. Then, they also got a couple that were various types of South Dakota and/or Badlands t-shirts.

They spent a bit of money there and then headed out. They had been wandering around Wall Drug for over an hour.

"Hey, Tony...look at the dinosaur," Tim said.

"Huh?"

Tim pointed. There was a small crowd around the end of the Back Yard Mall. They were all staring expectantly at a large statue of a Tyrannosaurus rex...or at least the head of one.

"What's going on?" Tony asked.

"Well, the sign says that the T-rex attempts to feed every twelve minutes."

Then, Tony noticed that the head was starting to move. It was like a cheap version of Jurassic Park. Suddenly, red lights began to flash and an alarm went off. The head rose up, revealing small claws and a fog machine turned on somewhere. Then, the dinosaur roared a few times before sinking back to its former position.

"Wow. That was unexpected," Tony said.

"Yeah. Very."

...and then, there it was. Tim closed his eyes took a deep breath and then turned and walked away. Tony could guess the trigger. Unexpected things. He turned and followed Tim, a little sad that the dark cloud had descended again when they'd managed to have some fun.

"Hey, Tim..."

"Tony, just give me a few minutes, okay?" Tim asked. "I'll meet you over by the statues. Just give me a few minutes."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Please?"

"Okay."

Tony slowed down and let Tim get ahead of him. He disappeared into the increasing crowds. Tony found a shop that sold fudge as he walked back toward the main entrance. Then, he turned toward the main mall walkway and saw a single solitary figure sitting in a room that was labeled the "Travelers' Chapel". He stepped inside. There was no real doorway, but there was a quietness that came over him as soon as he passed over the threshold.

"Tim?" he asked quietly.

"I just needed a few minutes," Tim whispered. "Wasn't sure where to go, but this worked."

"You feeling better?"

"Not really. It was nice to have that time where I could forget it all...but it always comes back. ...and it's harder to feel it when I've gone for some time without it. It's worse."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. It would have happened anyway."

Tony walked over and sat down beside him.

"So...what do you want to do, now?"

Tim took a breath and let it out. "I don't know."

"Well, we slept late. It's not quite noon yet. ...but I don't want to be driving right now."

"We can stay here a while longer. I just need to..."

"You don't have to hide it, Tim."

"I know I don't, but I want to. I hate feeling like this."

"Do you want to leave?"

"No. I don't. I just want to get my head cleared out."

"I don't think that's going to happen in here."

"I don't think it is, either."

Tony hesitated. "Well...how about some fudge?"

"What?" Tim looked at him like he was nuts.

"I just bought it. Looked pretty good. Have some."

Tim laughed and took a piece.

"Not bad." Tim leaned back on the pew and stared at the ceiling. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"This place is really lame."

"I know."

"I kind of like it."

"I figured you might."

Tim took a deep breath.

"Okay. Let's see some more of it before we leave."

"Okay."

They left the Travelers' Chapel and spent some more time wandering. Tim noticed a number of old photographs and they wandered up and down the halls looking at them. It was a little piece of genuine history in the midst of all the touristy stuff. Then, they got some more free ice water (which Tim said still wasn't icy) and headed back to the hotel. Tony had toyed with the idea of going to Mt. Rushmore, but that was an hour and a half drive. He wasn't _too_ tired yet, but if he started driving again, he had no doubt that he'd be feeling more than a little droopy. So, they actually just sat around for the rest of the day...in a little town just few miles west of the Badlands that seemed to exist solely because of a trumped-up drug store.

When night fell, Tim smiled a little.

"So...you need to sleep since you're driving," he said.

"Yeah. How are you feeling?"

"Tired, but I doubt I'll do much sleeping."

"Try, McGee. Can't hurt to do that, and we'll head back in the morning. Might take us a while, but we'll get there."

"Okay." Tim got into his bed and Tony turned out the lights.

They lay there in silence.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe we can stop at the Corn Palace on our way back."

Tony couldn't help it. He grinned...even though Tim couldn't see him.

"Sounds like a good idea."

"Good night."

"Good night."

"Not this time," Tim said softly.

Tony figured, but he rolled over and went to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_Tim sat alone in the hospital room. His doctor had been happy with his recovery after the explosion. In spite of the concussion, the internal bleeding, Tim was recovering quite well and would likely heal fully. He had been further back from the windows than the others. The ones who had died. Tim was unable to be happy about anything. Tony and Ziva had come and told him everything that had happened. Tim was embarrassed about what he had done when he first woke up...but that paled beneath the weight of knowing that everyone could have died...that people _had_ died. It all boiled down to Dearing...a man who had used his resources and intelligence to destroy. What was worse than that, though, was that he was doing it under the guise of _helping_. For some reason, that horrified Tim more than it would have otherwise. _

_...and he was still out there. He was still there ready to do the same thing again. He was really just getting revenge, but he was claiming to be doing something more._

_As he sat there, he tried to think about what was driving Dearing. He tried to understand why Dearing was doing what he was doing. He felt like it was vital to get inside Dearing's head. Gibbs and Abby weren't there to do that. Ducky wasn't there to do that. Tony and Ziva were working, but Tim himself couldn't do anything physical yet. He had to _think_. That was what he could do well. _

_Hours passed as Tim tried and tried to understand Dearing, but the more he thought, the more horrified he became at what Dearing had done and _why_ he had done it. Still, he persisted because he felt like it was the only thing he could do. Then, when they let him out, he could go back to work and use that to get Dearing._

_No matter what._

Tony woke up the next morning feeling much better than he had the day before. It wasn't that he'd never had an all-nighter before (more times than he could count, in college), but he could admit to himself that he was getting a bit old for it. He sat up and saw that the TV was on, the volume so low he really couldn't hear it.

"I figured it was better than staring at the ceiling, wondering if the fire alarm would go off," Tim said softly. "Not much good on."

Tony looked over. Tim was sitting, fully-dressed, on his bed...looking really tired. He smiled wanly.

"I slept for about an hour."

"That's it?"

"Yeah." Tim shrugged. "It's morning now. You're awake. I can sleep in the car."

"I have to admit that I hoped you'd be a little better."

"I am. I slept for an hour," Tim said. "That's more than I've got at a time at night in a long time. Admitting that I've got problems doesn't mean I'm better. Brain is still in need of major repairs, Tony."

Tony just nodded. It wasn't like they hadn't already talked about this. Still... but no, this was why they were going to get back to DC and get Tim to someone who could help him now that he was willing to admit that there was a problem.

"Okay. Let me get ready and we'll head out. It's about three and a half hours to the Corn Palace, I think."

"That'd be nice. You'll let me sleep the whole way?"

"If you can, Tim, I'll let you."

"Good. ...because I'm actually a little tired, Tony."

Tony smiled at the understatement and hurried to get ready. He supposed that the fact that Tim was letting him see that he was exhausted was an improvement. He'd hidden how tired he was before...which was one of the reasons Tony and Ziva hadn't noticed the developing problem. They stopped to get something to eat for breakfast and then started on their way.

Tim gave a half smile, reclined the seat, and was out before Tony had got back onto I-90. The trip back toward Mitchell, the home of the Corn Palace, was just as dull as the trip in the opposite direction. ...worse even, because he didn't have the distraction of the Wall Drug signs. ...and Tim was sleeping. However, this time, he didn't try to bug Tim or wake him up. He just drove across the plains of South Dakota, willing time to pass more quickly than it was. The miles seemed endless, like he wasn't actually moving forward.

He had seen billboards for the Corn Palace, not as many as Wall Drug, but they made him smile. He hoped that Tim would be able to enjoy it a little bit, like he had Wall Drug. Kitsch as a way of distracting his mind from the intensity of his fear. He didn't know what it would be like. What did it mean that it was the "world's only corn palace"? Was it made out of corn? Was it a museum for corn? He didn't know, but he was excited to find out.

Tim's head slipped further back and he started to snore. Tony chuckled. Luckily, the snoring wasn't too loud. Otherwise, it would be irritating.

They were getting there.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim felt the car slow down, and he reluctantly woke up. He felt the dryness in his mouth that told him he'd been snoring...and drool had dried on his cheek. He rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand.

"Are we there yet?" he mumbled, hearing the crackle in his voice.

Tony laughed.

"Just about. I just got off I-90. If you want to sleep while I get lost, feel free."

Three hours wasn't enough. _Four_ hours wouldn't have been enough. The way Tim felt, _twenty_ hours wouldn't be enough, but he lifted the seat back up and tried to wake himself up. It was hard, and if he was going to keep himself from falling back on the sour attitude that was easier than letting himself enjoy anything for fear of thinking about how it could be destroyed, he had to be more alert.

"Sleep well?" Tony asked.

"Better and longer than last night," Tim said and cleared his throat. "But not long enough."

"I'm sure. You sure you want to go to the Corn Palace? We could just head back to DC. It's going to be a long drive."

Tim shook his head. "No...really...I want to know what it is."

"You sound really enthusiastic, Tim," Tony said.

Tim laughed. "Waking up is hard," he said ruefully.

"Yeah, I'm sure. So..."

"Find a parking place."

"Gotta find the place, first."

"Right." Tim took a deep breath and tried to wake himself up. His body's rhythms were all thrown off. Even when he got sleep during the day, it still felt wrong to him and was not as restful as sleep at night...not that he was getting much of that, either.

He didn't sleep but he must have spaced out for a few minutes because, suddenly, Tony was pulling into a parking space.

"We're here, Tim."

Tim nodded and opened the car door. Breathing in the fresh air helped wake him up a little bit, as did walking around. He stumbled a bit, but Tony instantly put out a steadying arm. A couple of days ago, Tim would have snapped at him...and he still _wanted_ to do that, but at the same time, he could acknowledge that it wasn't because of Tony himself. He swallowed the irritation. They walked across a courtyard surrounded by little souvenir shops...and then saw a statue of an anthropomorphized cob of corn with _World's Only Corn Palace_ written on the bottom.

Before Tim could do more than read the statue and contemplate what it meant, Tony grabbed a random passer-by and asked him to take a picture of them.

"Hey, McGee, come and stand by the corn!"

Tim nodded and moved over. He tried to look alert, although he was certain that these pictures would be nothing more than depressing in a few years. If things got better, it would be a reminder of how low Tim had sunk. If things got worse, they could look back and see how bad Tim was at the beginning. Overall...Tim couldn't understand why Tony wanted to document this trip.

Still, he pasted a smile on his face and stood beside the smiling corn cob. Then, he turned around and got his first look at the Corn Palace.

...and in spite of his exhaustion, he was impressed.

"Wow," he said in surprise.

Tony stood beside him and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. This is...not what I was expecting," Tony said.

The Corn Palace was not _made_ of corn. It was _decorated_ with corn. It was pretty tacky, but the front was covered with mosaics or murals depicting different sports. Football, track, golf. In the center, there was a sign reading _Saluting Youth Activities 2012_. They crossed the street to get closer, and the mosaics were _all_ made of corn cobs of different colors. And the corn hadn't been dyed. These were the _natural_ colors of the corn. The rounded towers were reminiscent of the Taj Mahal...and were not made of corn. In fact, that was the only place that had bright colors.

"How do they do this?" Tim asked.

"I have no idea. You ready to go in?"

"Sure."

They headed inside. There were more crowds here than had been at Wall Drug, but it was later in the day, too. But there was more to it than that. When they got inside, they followed the people who walked into a big open room...not a room...

"Hey, it's a gym!" Tony exclaimed.

"Yeah. Weird."

"Okay. I have to know what's going on here," Tony said. He started looking around for someone working there.

Tim just started looking around. There were more souvenirs in here, but there was also a lot of local crafts. Carvings, statues, jewelry, leatherwork. He was surprised at the range of things here. There were stalls of postcards, t-shirts and corn-shaped suckers. And then there were large wood carvings and homemade jewelry.

But above all the stalls, there were more mosaics...again made out of corn. Tim wandered away from Tony, toward the walls so that he could see them more clearly. He got close to them and saw the types of corn. Some was blue, some yellow, some both...some red, purple, white. And put together like one would see with glass tiles in other places. He stared at a detailed mosaic of what looked like a monk staring at the Badlands.

"Amazing," Tim said softly. Wall Drug had been fun and kitschy, but there was more to the Corn Palace. It was still a tourist trap...but there was something special about it.

"Hey, Tim! Come over here!" Tony called.

Tim turned around. Tony was standing by an older man wearing a nametag. He must have found the answer.

"What is it?" Tim asked.

"So...these mosaics in here are usually up for about ten years before they have to change them."

"They change these?" Tim asked, with an almost-foreign feeling of interest.

"Oh, yeah," the man said. "All the time. The mosaics outside have to be changed every year. The cobs can't stand up to the weather."

"So these aren't ever the same?" Tim asked.

The man smiled. "Exactly. If you have to remake something, why do it exactly the same every time? You're just copying. We'd rather make it something new every time. It's more fun."

"Wow," Tim said.

"_And_ they only have this stuff set up part of the time," Tony said. "They use the money to maintain the place. It's a gym, stage, community center thing and they have to clear it all out in the evenings so that they can use it."

"You can see some of the old murals out in the hall...going back to 1892."

"This is really cool," Tony said.

"It is neat," Tim said. "I never thought it would be like this. I hadn't even _heard_ of it before coming here."

"Worth the stop?" the man asked.

"Definitely," Tim said and was completely sincere. It was amazing to see all this.

"We'll get 500,000 people coming through here every year."

"Wow."

The man smiled. "Enjoy your stay."

"We will," Tony said. "And we'll buy something."

"Do."

"I think I like this better than Wall Drug," Tim said. "It's not as...full, I guess, but it's something that has...use outside of being a tourist trap."

"Yeah...and those pictures are _so_ cool," Tony said.

"Yeah."

There was a pause and Tim took a deep breath. Tony grabbed his arm.

"Don't think about it, Tim."

"That's like saying that I shouldn't think about purple elephants," Tim said.

"Okay...then, think about purple elephants."

Tim laughed a little, but purple elephants did show up in his head. He took a few deep breaths, trying to push away the fear that threatened to overwhelm him. This time, Tony didn't let him run away. Instead, he stood beside him and kept talking until Tim calmed down.

"Ready to buy something?" Tony asked.

"Yeah," Tim whispered.

"Great. I think we need to buy some of those corn suckers."

"Okay."

They walked over to the displays. Tony bought some postcards. Tim got the suckers. Then, they found a couple of t-shirts. They looked at some of the more expensive items but resisted the temptation to spend hundreds of dollars.

After looking at some photos of the older versions of the building, they walked back to the car. Tim had the feeling that Tony would have liked to stay longer, but he was relieved that they were going back to the car. He was tired again.

"Okay, McGee, we're going to see how far we can get today before we stop. It's going to be a long drive. I'll let you sleep the whole way...but I'm going to wake you up to eat supper. Got it?"

"Yeah," Tim said. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Tony grinned. "For what?"

"For letting me sleep in the car," Tim said. There was more to it than that, but that was all he could express in words right now.

"No problem. Since you're going to be up all night, I'll let you sleep as much as you can in the car."

Tim got into the car and lay back. He was asleep before Tony even got out of the parking lot.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony sighed a little as Tim fell asleep almost instantly. There was another moment in there. It was almost like Tim was having a panic attack, only they weren't strong. He would breathe faster and he'd freak out a little, but there was nothing else that Tony associated with panic attacks. So he wasn't sure what to make of it. They couldn't be flashbacks since they were reactions to Tim's fears, not to memories of things that had happened...at least not so far as Tony could tell.

But they had a long way to go. He'd get them as far as he could today and then he could sleep.

...while Tim stayed on guard.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Tony drove until they were at Cedar Rapids, Iowa before he stopped for dinner. He got gas a couple of times, but otherwise, he just kept driving. Tim slept the whole way. Tony had considered stopping earlier, but since Tim didn't sleep when Tony did, he figured it wouldn't help much to stop and rest. He didn't think Tim was sleeping particularly deeply either because he'd mumble and open his eyes slightly off and on. He would have just kept driving, but he himself had been driving all day without anyone to spell him, without anyone to talk to and help him keep alert. He knew that if he kept it up, he'd be more likely to get in an accident...and he _really_ didn't think either he or Tim needed that complication. ...and ever since the bomb, he'd been more careful about things like that. He figured it was a reaction to the realization that he and Ziva could have been killed through their stupidity rather than directly due to the attack. Why risk being hurt or killed when simple precautions could prevent it?

A storm rolled in as they neared Cedar Rapids. It didn't look quite as bad as the last one, but it was enough for Tony. He could take that hint and so he woke Tim up to find them a hotel. Tim was a bit more alert this time, having had quite a few hours to sleep, however sporadically. They got their hotel, had dinner and then, Tony went to bed. He had really only been driving today, but he was exhausted. Tim made no complaint, but he was quieter than usual and wouldn't say why. Tony figured that it was due to the anticipation of another long night.

The lights went out and Tony went to sleep.

"_So...just how impaired _is_ McGee?" Tony asked._

"_I wouldn't trust him to drive. In fact, it would be best if he wasn't left alone."_

"_Why?" Ziva asked. "What has caused this change?"_

_The doctor shook his head. "I wish I could tell you. All I can tell you is that your agent hasn't been sleeping well for a significant span of time, and he hasn't been taking care of himself. I've given him a prescription for some sleeping pills which will hopefully solve the first problem, at least temporarily. The IV is ameliorating the second problem for now, but once he's released, he _needs_ to pay more attention to his own body."_

"_And we should be paying more attention to him, too," Ziva said, her expression one of shame. "I saw that he was having trouble, but I did not think it was so bad."_

"_I didn't, either," Tony said. "Gibbs is the one who noticed."_

"_I hadn't seen him in days," Gibbs said. "The difference was obvious from before the attack to after."_

"_What did his shrink say?" Tony asked._

"_That Agent McGee attended his required sessions and seemed to be doing better in terms of the survivor's guilt she had worried about."_

"_Survivor's guilt?" Ziva asked._

"_Yes. From what I understand, Agent McGee was rather upset that there were others in the same room who died while he lived. It seemed to be the biggest problem and so that was what she focused on. If there were other problems, Agent McGee was keeping them from her...and from everyone else from what I'm seeing here."_

_Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Tony. "Are you ready for that, Tony? McGee not driving?"_

_Tony shrugged. It hadn't been his plan, but it would still work._

"_I don't see any reason to change my mind."_

"_Just keep your eye on him," the doctor said. "Whatever this underlying problem is, it could burst out at the moment you least expect it. Sublimated emotions have a tendency to do that."_

_Tony nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."_

Tony woke up in the darkness. He heard something, a sound he couldn't identify. He didn't move, choosing instead to let himself wake up more before letting Tim know he was awake. He carefully opened his eyes and noted that there was no flickering light from the TV. So Tim wasn't watching television. That ruled that out as the source of the sound.

He opened his eyes fully and noticed that there didn't seem to be _any_ light at all, not in the room, not out in the parking lot. There were no humming sounds from the little fridge or the A/C.

Power outage. Great. Tony hoped the power came back on before the morning. He didn't want to have to navigate through city traffic in a city he didn't know without traffic lights. It would just make things more difficult than they needed to be.

Then, there was another sound, almost like a whimper...quickly muffled, almost choked back.

Was that Tim?

Tony thought about what to do. Another muffled sound pretty much confirmed his thought that the noise was coming from Tim and that he was trying to stifle his own sounds. ...but what was causing it? Would it be better or worse to let Tim know he had been heard? Was he crying? If so, why? Tony tried to reason it out. Tim had been having trouble, worrying about Dearing, worrying about what he might do if he could get out of prison. ...and the power was out...possibly without warning. ...while Tim was on his self-imposed guard duty. Could Tim really be afraid of an attack?

If so, then, it was time to get involved. No matter how embarrassed Tim might be about being seen, it didn't sound like he was controlling himself very well. Maybe talking it out would help. ...or maybe it was the complete breakdown they'd all been afraid of and there was nothing Tony could do...except let Tim know he wasn't alone.

He sat up, and looked around. He couldn't see Tim on his bed.

"McGee?" he called out softly.

A choked sound, but nothing more.

"Hey, McGee, where are you?"

He heard some panicked breathing.

"Go...to sleep, Tony. ...it's okay."

"Doesn't sound like it. What's going on?"

"Nothing," Tim said and whimpered again.

Tony got out of bed.

"Where are you, Tim?"

"J-Just go back to...to sleep...Tony..."

"No way, man."

He walked carefully in the darkness of the room around his bed and around Tim's bed.

Then, he saw the dark shape in the corner between the bed and the wall. The lighter color of the pillow Tim was holding. He sat on the edge of the bed beside where Tim was sitting on the floor.

"What's going on, Tim?"

"Nothing! Nothing is...nothing is happening."

"You're such a liar," Tony said, forcing some humor into his voice even though he didn't see much that was humorous going on.

"No...really... It's all in my head. I know it is, but..."

Suddenly, Tim started to cry which took Tony by surprise. Tim hadn't _ever_ cried, not even when Kate died. Tony had been able to see that he _wanted_ to, but he hadn't shed a single tear. To hear him crying now when there didn't seem to be any reason for it was a bit strange. A _lot_ strange.

He tried to put how disconcerted he was to the side and focus on calming Tim down.

"Talk to me, McGee. Don't worry about it. Just tell me."

Tim just sobbed.

"Tim, tell me what's going on! You're freaking me out!"

"The...The power...went out...and all I could...could think..."

"Dearing," Tony said, finally getting it.

"I know...I know he's not there, but I..." Tim was so freaked out that he couldn't even finish his sentence.

Tony had no idea what to do here. Tim was aware that what he was feeling wasn't warranted but he couldn't seem to control it. He was hiding in a corner, hugging a pillow like a little kid scared of the dark. ...only he was an adult who generally wasn't disturbed like this. Tim was too...normal (even taking his different interests into account) to turn into a child afraid of the dark.

...but he had. Tim was sitting on the floor, crying. Tony could tell he needed to do _something_. He just didn't have a clue what it was. He took a breath and bent over. He lifted Tim off the floor. Tim actually resisted being taken out of the corner, but not too much. Tony got him onto the bed. Tim leaned forward, burying his face in the pillow, trying to hide...from showing Tony how he was feeling? Or maybe hiding from what scared him.

Tony hesitated and then put his hand on Tim's back.

"Tim, it's okay. There's nothing to be scared of. I know you know that, but listen to what I'm saying. Dearing is in prison. He's not responsible for this. You don't need to give him this much power, Tim."

Tim was still crying, but he said something that seemed like "I know".

"The power will come back on. Dearing didn't do it. It's probably just the storm."

"I know."

"Just listen to me and calm down."

What could he say that would help Tim? Would it matter? Would anything help Tim reconnect with reality?

"You know what, Tim? Dearing scares me, too."

"Y-Y-Yeah...right..."

"No, it's true. It's not like what you're feeling, but...but Dearing is way too willing to destroy to make a point. I don't get why, if he wants to get revenge against Gibbs, that he's will to kill so many people. I don't get why he's pretending it's something high-minded when it's all about ruining people. I'm relieved that we caught him because I don't know that I would have had any way of figuring out what to do next. He's a scary guy, Tim. I don't blame you for being afraid. I just...I have to admit that I don't get what you're feeling, though. I don't know what to do to help you, Tim."

"Nothing...Nothing to do," Tim said. He had moved the pillow away from his face. "Nothing...just...you can...just go...ignore me. I'm not..." He swore. "I hate this...I really...I hate this."

Tony could see that. Even though it was dark. Tim was as embarrassed as he was afraid. Both were contributing to this...and with the lights not coming on, Tim didn't seem disposed to calming down.

Tony felt like he was failing somehow in not being able to help Tim through this meltdown which was much worse than what he'd seen before.

"I...I woke up...at night...and I was..." Tim started talking...still terrified. "...I thought that...that I saw him...I'd been thinking...about...about what he was...and I...all I could think about...was him. Dearing...wanting us all...to pay the price. I knew...if he saw any of us...he would kill us...just because..."

"When were you thinking about this?"

"In the hospital...after I woke up...just him...only about how to understand him...and...and I know...that he would...wouldn't hesitate. He'd do something like this. Turn off the lights and use that...to..."

"How often?"

"Whenever I was...awake...more and more. He killed people, Tony. Good people died just because...because he didn't care about that."

Something started to stir in Tony's brain. He wasn't sure he was right. He wasn't sure saying it was the best idea...but nothing else seemed to be working.

"Tim...are you thinking about cases or about the...the people who died in the bullpen?"

For just a moment, everything was still. Tim had inhaled...and then, he exhaled noisily.

"I don't know. Everything is so...mixed up...the only thing that's...clear is Dearing."

"That's okay, Tim. Really, it is. You just need to tell the people who know what to do to help you because I just don't know. When we get back...you need talk about it. ...to someone smarter than I am."

Tim managed to take a deep breath and let it out in a parody of a laugh.

"You're not...doing so bad, Tony. This isn't...the first time I've done this."

"It isn't?"

Tim shook his head. "No. Total meltdown. It's just that...no one was there to see the first time...or the second."

"How long did it last?"

"Hours," Tim whispered and sniffed loudly. "Hours. I...couldn't stop it myself. I just rode it out...until it faded...until the sun came up."

Tony squeezed Tim's shoulder, hating that he'd been feeling like this and not told anyone. He could guess that the more fear Tim felt, the worse it got every time. He couldn't stop it himself and he couldn't deal with it...but he was ashamed of it; so he didn't tell anyone, leaving it to churn inside him and intensify.

"How long has the power been out?"

"About an hour."

Tim was calming down. Tony could hear it in Tim's voice.

"Too long for me..."

"Yeah. Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"Feeling any better?"

"I don't feel like I'm going to die. That's an improvement. I can breathe."

"I'm glad."

"Me, too."

"I'm going to stay up until the power comes back on, okay?"

"You don't have to. I'm not going to sleep."

"I know...and until there's light again, I'm not, either. I'm going to wait."

Tim sat up but his head stayed facing the wall.

"It's like I...I lose control of myself. I can't stop the feeling from..." He took a deep breath. "...from overwhelming me. ...but I know there's no reason to feel like I do. But I can't stop it. It's so stupid...but at the same time, it doesn't matter that it's stupid. It's just...reality."

"It's not stupid. I didn't realize how much Ziva and I were missing. We should have paid more attention. Gibbs saw it when he got back. I thought you were getting help."

"I was...just not for everything because I was trying to pretend it didn't exist."

"It exists and we're going to get your head on straight no matter what. Got that, Probie?"

Suddenly, the lights flickered and the TV came on. In the dim light from the television screen, Tony could see Tim's tear-streaked, pale face. This had been really bad. Tim noticed his scrutiny and crafted an ironic smile.

"Little kid scared of the dark," he said. "...and monsters in the closet."

Which was exactly what Tony himself had been thinking, but he couldn't let that stand because Tim was using it to put himself down.

"No. You're worried about a bad guy hurting more people. That's all."

"It's not simple...not easy."

"No, it's not, but you don't have to be ashamed of it."

Tim laughed a little. "Is it hard to be so nice to me?"

"Well, you don't kick a probie when he's down."

Tim nodded. "Thanks, Tony. Really. Thanks."

"My pleasure. You going to be all right?"

"No, but you can go back to sleep. I'll just...watch TV and hope the power doesn't go out again."

"Okay. We're going to get you out of the Badlands, Tim. You'll see." Tony squeezed Tim's shoulder once more and then patted him on the back before heading back to his bed. He lay down and closed his eyes, but he didn't go to sleep for about an hour.

The power stayed on.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Tony did go back to sleep, although his sleep wasn't as deep as it had been before. He was very conscious of the soft humming of the A/C. Every time he woke up, he would listen for it, hoping that the hum would be present, meaning that the power was on. When he finally did get up, Tim was awake, of course...but it looked like he hadn't slept at all. He was still showing some signs of distress from his breakdown the night before. He was as tense as he'd been at the beginning of the trip.

"Tim?" Tony asked softly, not wanting to disturb Tim at all.

It didn't work. Tim was startled. He managed a weak smile, though.

"Don't ask," he said.

"Okay. You want to shower first?"

Tim nodded and got up off the bed. He went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. It felt like any gains that had been made during the trip had been lost with an hour-long power outage...which told him just how disturbed Tim really was. If he'd become that obsessed with Dearing, it made some sense that Tim wasn't going to be easily persuaded to get over it.

Tony's phone rang and he answered it, feeling a little depressed that he wouldn't have good news to report.

"Hey."

"_I must say that I expected a cheerier greeting."_

The voice was like a tonic. "Ducky! Long time, no...well, I'm still not seeing you. Long time, no hear!"

"_Yes. It's been too long, I will say, particularly since no one saw fit to inform me of the goings on that led to your trip."_

Tony couldn't help grinning a little. Ducky sounded a little put out.

"Well, you were...occupied."

"_Perhaps. Nevertheless, I am back in DC and in my own home. Thank goodness."_

"Does that mean you're back at work, too?"

"_Unfortunately, no. Not yet. My doctor is...shall we say, conservative about my recovery...and I'm inclined to follow her advice."_

"I think Tim would like to see you back at work, too."

"_Yes, maybe he would. Actually, I wanted to ask how he was doing."_

"Not good, Ducky. I got him talking, but..."

"_What? I must say that Jethro sounded a bit more optimistic than you do."_

"That's because Gibbs wasn't here last night when Tim had a total meltdown because the power went out for an hour."

"_What?"_

"It's like he...he's having panic attacks or something, but...but what he's afraid of aren't memories. He's just afraid that Dearing is going to destroy something else. He got obsessed with finding him, but he couldn't do it. That's how he feels anyway. I don't know what to do besides get him back to DC as soon as I can. I'm going to drive straight through today. It'll be a long day, but I think it'll be better."

"_You sound a bit tense, Anthony. I think you need a vacation."_

"You're telling me," Tony said with a smile at the irony.

"_Well, I have a suggestion for you, unless you have a plan in mind for when you get back to DC."_

"I don't. Not really."

"_Good. Bring him to my home. I think that Timothy needs to learn about the importance of relying on others...as I have done. Spending a month with little energy and less ability to do things than I'd like...it has reinforced lessons I have learned over the course of my life."_

"I should have seen this."

"_No. No taking on blame. This is Timothy's doing, although I do not blame him, either. More than likely, this began when he was not thinking clearly and took root before he even realized how far it had gone. No, Timothy needs to be willing to lean on others, to accept the concept of a team."_

"McGee knows about working on a team!" Tony protested. "He's done it for years."

"_But he has his niche that he could be said to guard. He fears losing his place, his value and so he doesn't like to let others into it. From what I've been told, he was putting great effort into finding Dearing."_

"Yeah. ...and he told me that he was incompetent because nothing he did was enough and he's obviously not strong enough to fight Dearing if he gets away. If anything relies on him, he's going to fail."

"_That...is a stronger emotion than I expected, but it fits. In a less serious situation, Timothy would simply be annoyed, perhaps a little jealous that someone else did what he couldn't do. When he feels the danger so keenly as you have described, not succeeding is tantamount to letting Dearing get away. It doesn't matter that it's not true. It matters only how Timothy's mind has twisted the facts around."_

"He knows it's not true."

"_He _says_ that he knows...because the logical part of him knows it can't be true. However, the emotional part is ruling him right now and that part is apparently telling him over and over again that he isn't good enough, that he's weak and incompetent and because of that, he's in great danger."_

"Are you sure that you want to talk to him tonight, Ducky? Shouldn't you be getting extra sleep or something?"

"_Of course, but I can nap during the day. When do you anticipate arriving?"_

"Well...what time is it?" Tony asked and looked at his phone display. "Eight. I slept longer than I thought I would. We'll be getting going as soon as I can, maybe in half an hour or so. We'll get something to eat for breakfast. I'm not letting McGee skip any meals. Then, I'll let him sleep if he will. He's still keyed up after last night. It'll be about sixteen hours before we get back...that'll put us after midnight, Ducky."

"_That will be fine. I'll make sure I get sleep beforehand. If Timothy isn't sleeping at night, then, I will be prepared for that."_

"Do you think that...that this is going to be...permanent, Ducky?" Tony asked, unable to suppress his own set of fears after seeing how low Tim could be.

"_I don't think so, not now that we're going to get him help. Time will tell."_

"Yeah."

"_And, Anthony?"_

"Yeah?"

"_You have done a wonderful job. Getting Timothy to tell you what is wrong is a bigger accomplishment than you seem to think it is. Even if you can't stop his fears, you have helped him say what they are and _that_ is significant."_

"I'd got him to have some fun, Ducky...but this morning..."

"_Don't discount what you achieved before simply because of a setback, Anthony. I would wager that Timothy will still appreciate your efforts...and your presence."_

"Yeah, maybe."

"_No. Truly."_

The shower went off.

"Do you want to talk to Tim at all, Ducky?"

"_Hmmm...no. Tell him that I'm back home, but I think it would best to save our conversation until you arrive. Drive safely, Anthony. For your own sake as well as Timothy's."_

"I'll make Tim talk to me if I have to."

"_Do. Good-bye."_

"Bye, Ducky."

Tony hung up and was amazed at how much better _he_ felt just knowing that Ducky was well and truly on the mend. It was like saying that, no matter how much chaos there had been in their lives the last few weeks, there was a chance for things to go back to normal.

Tim opened the door to the bathroom. He looked less tense, but Tony could see some embarrassment in his stance...and that omnipresent fear.

"Your turn," he said.

"Okay. Thanks. Hey, McGee, Ducky called while you were in the shower. He's back home again."

Tim's eyes brightened slightly. "Really?"

"Yeah. He's not back at work yet, but he's home and actually, he wants you to stay with him when we get to DC."

"What?"

"You know you're not ready to be alone, right? Ducky has an extra bed."

Tim's eyes shifted away.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, remember? Remember, Tim?"

"Yeah."

That was unconvincing at best, but Tony just moved on. He went into the bathroom and showered as quickly as he could. This would be a _long_ day of driving. He probably should have got up earlier, but he needed his sleep. They helped themselves to the continental breakfast and then started on their way.

"Okay, Tim. Before you fall asleep, we need to talk about the drive."

"What?" Tim asked. He didn't seem in a hurry to sleep, truth be told.

"This is a sixteen-hour drive back to DC. That means that I'm going to be driving for sixteen hours. So, at some point, I'm going to need you to wake up and talk to me to keep me alert."

"Okay. I can do that."

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you regret going on this road trip?"

Tim shrugged. "No."

"Really?"

"Really. I wish I could have enjoyed it more. I probably didn't let you have much fun, either."

"I can come back anytime," Tony said. "Actually, so could you."

Tim just quirked a slight smile. He reclined the seat and closed his eyes, although his body was pretty tense. Too tense to be sleeping.

"Do you mind if I put some music on?"

"No."

Tony smiled and turned on the radio. Some constant soft sounds to get Tim to relax a little.

It worked...after an hour of driving. Tim was snoring again. Tony chuckled. Even in the midst of a mental breakdown, Tim couldn't keep himself from snoring when he was asleep. In a way, it was comforting.

"_Agent McGee, what are you doing in here?" Vance asked. "The building isn't open yet."_

"_Just looking," Tim said softly. "I thought there was more damage."_

"_There was," Vance said with a slight smile. "Cleanup is under way."_

_Tim looked around. "I was standing right here. This was as far as I got."_

_Vance walked over and stood by him._

"_You're lucky, Agent McGee. There are others who didn't make it. I was in the stairwell...and it was my car that did this."_

"_The bomb, not your car."_

"_I know, but at the same time, it doesn't seem to matter a whole lot. Dearing was ahead of us all. Every time we thought we'd made any headway, gotten any closer, it turned out we were just doing what he wanted us to do." Vance sighed. "We need to get this guy...before he does any more damage than he already has."_

_Tim nodded silently._

"_Hopefully, he'll make a mistake. I don't see that we have much hope otherwise."_

The sun had been down for a while. They had taken breaks to eat and to get gas. Tony had considered just driving, but he figured that Tim could use the break...and he could, too.

"Okay, Tim. Wake up!" Tony said.

Tim sat up quickly and looked around.

"What is it?"

"I'm getting tired. I need you to keep me awake."

"How?"

"Talk. Point out interesting scenery."

Tim looked out the window at the darkness. "I'm not sure there's much interesting scenery."

"Okay. So...let's talk about something else."

"Like what?"

"Legos?"

"What?"

"I don't know! Something interesting so that my mind is engaged."

Tim was silent for a little while.

"I thought about going after Dearing myself. Alone."

Well, _that_ was interesting.

"When?" Tony asked.

"After I got out of the hospital."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to stop him. I figured that if I could find him, an old guy wouldn't put up much of a fight."

Tony furrowed his brow and glanced over at Tim. Tim was staring out the passenger window. Not much emotion.

"What were you planning to do, Tim?"

"Kill him."

"What?"

"He'd already shown how good he was. Director Vance said that he kept getting further ahead of us. Why give him another chance to get away?"

"Do you really think you could have done that, Tim? Kill him in cold blood?"

Tim let out a sarcastic laugh. "Doesn't matter. I never found him anyway. You guys did...and you just arrested him...which is just giving him another chance to kill again."

"Would you have killed him, Tim?" Tony asked seriously. "Would you?"

"It was my plan."

"Tim, you're not answering my question. Could you really have done it?"

"We'll never know. I wasn't good enough to find him."

"That's not the way it was, Tim. Abby used all that stuff you'd found."

"But I couldn't figure it out myself."

"Tim, you're part of the team! I told you before. There's no _I_ in team."

"Yeah. You were just saying that because you wanted to take credit for what I'd found."

"Well...yeah...but it's still true. It doesn't matter who catches the bad guy. It matters that he got caught! ...and I'm glad he got caught."

"I wanted him to get dead," Tim said darkly. "I stayed up all night, every night, worrying about what he might do next. As long as he's alive..."

"No way, Tim. You can't think like that! Dearing's trial alone is going to take ages. And then, even if he gets the death penalty, it'll take years worth of appeals. He'll probably die of old age, first."

"That's why I wish he was dead. That's why I wanted to kill him."

"No. _That's_ why you need to calm down and deal with all this stuff. You can't let what you do and how you feel depend on whether or not Dearing is dead."

"You sound like Ducky."

"Well, thanks. I'll take that as a compliment since Ducky is really smart."

"Tony, I don't see why wanting Dearing dead is a problem. We've all wanted these guys dead before."

"Because I think that you might really mean it...that you might really have killed him."

"So?"

"So...I'm glad you didn't find him, Tim. If that's what you would have done, I'm _really_ glad that you didn't find Dearing."

"Why?"

"Not because it means you're a failure. Because it means that you haven't changed that much. The McGee I know wouldn't commit murder."

Tim scoffed at that, and Tony figured he was probably rolling his eyes.

"Why? You think I can't feel that kind of emotion?" Tim asked. "I've felt that before."

"At a time when you were suddenly angry."

"Well, being afraid is worse, Tony. I'd much rather be angry than afraid. Anger doesn't last as long."

"It could."

"Doesn't matter. Like I said, I failed; so I didn't kill him...even if the world would be infinitely better off without him in it."

"I can't disagree with you there."

"Then, _why_ do you think that I'm wrong?"

"Because, unless he was refusing to give up or was firing back, it would be wrong to shoot him."

"Either I'm more messed up than I think I am, or that is the dumbest thing I've ever heard. We work for a man who hunted a killer down in cold blood and shot him, a man who has let people off for murder, who doesn't _hesitate_ to make the cases personal. Dearing has shown over and over again that he places no value on human life. The only life he valued was his son's life. Once his son was dead, no one else deserved to live either. You tell me, Tony, how is it right that this man is allowed to live when he's killed so many people...all for revenge? How is that right?"

"It's not," Tony said. "So? Just because it's right, doesn't mean it's going to happen. Life isn't fair, and our job is to uphold the law. If Gibbs has stepped over the line..."

"If?"

Tony couldn't deny that there was no uncertainty there. "...that doesn't make it right for any of us to do the same. Besides, Dearing doesn't deserve to be killed by someone like you, Tim."

"Like me? What makes me so special? I'm a bad shot?"

"Ha. No." This was going to sound sappy, but Tony really did mean it and he hoped Tim would take it as he meant it. "He doesn't deserve to be killed by a good guy like you going off the rails."

There was a long silence.

"How good can I be, Tony? I'm a failure and I want to kill a man. Doesn't that kind of negate your point?"

"You only want to kill him because you're a bit screwed up, and I think we've already established, multiple times, that you're not a failure. Nothing has been negated."

"You know, Tony. You don't have to be nice to the crazy guy. I'm not going to blow a gasket or anything because you agree that I'm incompetent. I mean, it's nice of you and all, but it's not necessary."

"If that's what you're thinking, then it's definitely necessary. I'm not saying this to be nice. This is _me_ we're talking about. Am I _ever_ nice like that?"

"Actually, yes, you are," Tim said. "You're nicest to me when I've made the biggest mistakes. Shooting Benedict, not saving Erin, crazy Landon killing those guys because of my book. It's almost a given. If I screw up, then you'll be nice to me. You've been so nice and understanding on this trip that I must have made the screw-up of all screw-ups."

"That's not it at all, Tim," Tony said, although he was chagrined to realize that Tim was pretty much right about those other times...except that he hadn't screwed up. "I'm trying to help you because you deserve a lot more than that. Besides, those things you mentioned, you didn't screw up on _any_ of them. Even Gibbs said that he would have fired. You were right where you were supposed to be when Erin was killed, and you can hardly control someone else's choices. So, no, I don't see that you screwed up at those times...but you _did_ need someone to be nice to you."

Another long silence. Tony glanced over, but they weren't in a place with a lot of streetlights; so he couldn't see Tim's expression.

"Tim?"

"Tony, I can't look at things the way you are."

"I know. That's why I'm not smacking you."

Tim laughed softly.

"I think I'm still stuck in the Badlands."

"I guessed that. You'll get out."

Another pause.

"So...did you play with Legos?" Tim asked.

"Huh?"

"When you were a kid...did you play with Legos?"

Tony grinned. "Only if the other toys weren't available."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony was relieved when he saw the signs for DC. He and Tim had continued to talk, but he was tired. Very tired. It wasn't his preferred way to end a trip. Tired out of his skull, still worried about Tim, and ready to sleep for the next day. At least.

"Almost there, Tim," he said.

"Yeah. You could just take me to my apartment, you know."

"No, I couldn't. For one thing, I think that would be a mistake. For another, I don't dare cross Ducky. You're not worth it."

He was rewarded with the same soft chuckle.

They were both tired and neither could think of anything to say until they got to Ducky's place. When they pulled up, Tony decided to make sure Ducky was still up, although he could see the lights. He didn't relish driving back to his place, but he wasn't too far away. He'd make it.

"Let's go, Tim."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "What? Don't you trust me to go inside?"

"I could see you making a run for it," Tony said, only half-joking.

"Maybe you're right."

They got out of the car and headed for the front door. Tony didn't even get a chance to knock. Ducky opened the door, took one look at them and hugged them both simultaneously.

"Welcome back," he said.

Ducky looked a bit too thin. He had a worn look as well, but at the same time, he still had the same twinkle in his eye and he'd lost none of his personality.

"I could sleep in my own place, Ducky," Tim said.

"Perhaps you could, but let's not risk it." He turned his attention onto Tony. "And _you're_ not going to risk driving in your current state, either, Anthony."

"I'm not that far from home."

"Doesn't matter. You're dead on your feet. You will sleep here. Tomorrow will be soon enough to return to your home."

Tony didn't have the energy or any real interest in arguing. Besides, even if he'd got Tim here, he still didn't feel like he'd really done the job he'd taken on. Tim was still in the Badlands, and Tony felt like he needed to get him out.

Perhaps that showed in his face. Ducky spoke to him softly.

"Timothy will keep until the morning. Let go of your responsibility for now. Share the burden as Timothy was unable to do."

Tony smiled.

"Point taken."

Ducky returned the smile. "Good. Sleep, Anthony. I have slept for much of the day and Timothy and I will have a chat...since he'll be awake anyway."

Tony gave in and let Ducky settle him in the spare bedroom. He had planned on staying awake, trying to ascertain if there was any improvement at all.

...but as soon as he lay down, he was asleep, relieved that his responsibility _could_ be shared with others.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Tony slept until almost noon the next morning, secure in the fact that there was no traveling left to do and that Tim wasn't alone with the problems he was having. Ducky was there and there were a lot of others close by. In fact, he might have slept even longer than that, but his sleep was interrupted by a soft knock on the bedroom door.

Pulling himself out of some pleasant dreams, Tony sat up, rubbing his face and wondering who in the world was disturbing him so early.

"Come in?" he said.

The door opened, and Tim stood there uncertainly.

"Oh...I thought you'd be awake by now."

"By now?" Tony asked and looked at the clock. "Whoa. I must have been tired."

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"Nah. I needed to get up anyway," Tony said with a yawn.

"No. I mean that I'm sorry that you were so tired you slept that long. It's because of me."

"It's still okay. I'll be fine with another night of sleep. What about you?"

"I...talked with Ducky about...stuff."

"And?"

"And he thinks that I could...benefit from..." Tim shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. "...from going to a psychiatric facility for...a few days."

"What?" Tony was now completely awake.

"I think he might be right. I mean...look at what it took for you to deal with all this stuff. The only way you got me to sleep was by staying awake yourself. You had all these problems dealing with my crap."

"What made Ducky think that?"

"I think part of it was when I told him I threw the sleeping pills away."

"What sleeping pills?" That was news to Tony.

"When the doctor let me out...you know, after I passed out. He said I needed to get more sleep and he gave me some pills to help. I didn't want to sleep. It didn't feel safe. So I threw them away."

"That doesn't sound very smart."

Tim shrugged again. "That's kind of what Ducky said. He asked me about what I was thinking. I'd already said it all once to you. It was easier the second time...but he said that it worried him and that I should think about getting some round-the-clock help while I figure things out. No one really has the time to keep me on an even keel."

"I didn't mind doing it, Tim," Tony said. "Really, I didn't."

"Maybe...maybe not, but you don't _want_ to do it, and you shouldn't _have_ to. If I can...get a little more straightened out before I leave, that's a good thing, right?"

"Yeah...but..."

Tony stopped himself. He could see that Tim was uncertain about all this, but if he were honest, Tony could admit that this really might be a good idea. He'd seen for himself that Tim was more messed up than anyone had realized...and that he'd had time to get worse. Maybe he needed the time to get better. There was nothing wrong with trying it out, and it didn't sound like a long period.

"Will you have visitors?"

"I assume so. I've never been in a place like that, Tony. I don't have any experience."

"Well, then you'll have visitors every day."

Tim smiled a little. "Who? You?"

"Absolutely. You'd better believe it."

"You don't have to, Tony. It's not going to be forever...I hope."

"It won't be. You'll have some time and then you'll be okay."

"I don't think it works like that, Tony."

"Okay, maybe it doesn't. But I think you'll start doing great once you're ready to face things down head-on. You'll see. I'm right."

"I'll take your word for it, but, Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to say thanks. You sacrificed a lot of time and energy for me, and I don't want you to think I don't appreciate it. I really do."

"I know. Sometimes, I surprise even myself," Tony said with a cheeky grin.

Tim's earnest expression didn't change; so Tony got out of bed and walked over to where Tim was standing in the doorway. He hadn't even come all the way into the room. Tony put his arm around Tim's shoulders and squeezed them.

"Next year, when you're all better, we're going back."

"Back where?"

"To the Badlands so that you can see them as something other than a metaphor for your life. They're just rocks."

Tim laughed a little and let Tony urge him into the hallway.

"So if you're going to go, be ready for visitors. Okay?"

"Only if you really want to, Tony," Tim said. "Don't force yourself to do things you really don't want to do."

"I'll remember that," Tony said, mentally scheduling his next week to fit in a visit every day.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim did follow Ducky's advice and checked into a psychiatric hospital. They admitted him for a week and during that time, Tim got the sleep he needed...because if he didn't, they essentially forced him to. He ate regular meals, and he spent a significant portion of every day in therapy.

As he had promised, Tony visited him every single day, and the visits weren't just drop-ins. They were at least an hour long. They would have been longer, but Tony couldn't bring any movies.

Tim had other visitors as well. Ducky also came daily, and the rest of the team came to see him, too. He seemed to feel a little embarrassed by the attention...and by the fact that he was getting visits while being treated for what was, basically, a mental breakdown. No matter what Tony said (and he said it a lot), Tim still felt as though it was some inherent weakness in him that had brought him to this point. He was less embarrassed around Tony, seeing as Tony had seen him acting much worse already. That was part of the reason Tony made a point of coming. He had come with the others once and noticed how much more withdrawn and uncertain Tim was around them. It was a strange change. Tony was used to being the one that put Tim most on edge, because he teased him so mercilessly. To have the position of trust that Tim had given him was both surprising and bracing.

That was why, when Tim tentatively mentioned being released after ten days, Tony jumped in and volunteered to pick him up.

_Tim sat in the darkness of his apartment. Jethro was sleeping. Tim wished he was, too, but there were so many other things to do. Tony and Ziva were working, and Tim was going to be back himself, but when he'd talked to them, things felt different. They didn't seem nearly so intent on catching Dearing. They left work. They didn't stay late. They just punched the clock. Tim couldn't figure out why they were so willing to take their time, why they didn't feel the same urgency._

_He had imagined, over and over, Dearing sitting in a lair, watching all the chaos he'd caused with some kind of sadistic glee...and planning what more damage he could do._

_Tim wasn't sure why, but he felt completely and utterly alone in this. It was like his whole world was just him and Dearing._

"Tim, you ready to go?"

"Yeah. I'm ready."

"How are you sleeping?"

"With help...but I'm using the help," Tim said.

Tony nodded, acknowledging the continuing need for recovery, but Tim was looking a _lot_ better. More stable.

"Well, let's get you out of here."

Tim nodded. "Okay. I'm ready to leave." He picked up his bag and walked with Tony, out of the hospital, ready to face the world once again.

When they got into the car, Tim actually smiled.

"Feels familiar, doesn't it?" he asked.

"What?"

"You driving. Me being the passenger."

"Yeah. Pretty familiar. Next time, it'll be both of us sharing the driving responsibilities."

"Right," Tim said. "Like you'd ever want to put yourself through that again."

"Well, not through _that_, but a happier trip? Sure."

"I'll keep that in mind," Tim said.

Tony grinned and drove Tim home. When Tim got out of the car, he paused.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm heading out, I think."

"Out?"

Tim suddenly smiled. "Out of the Badlands."

"Wow. That's a declaration I didn't expect to hear so soon."

"I didn't say I was all the way out. I'm just on my way. You were right."

"Excuse me? What was that?" Tony asked, cupping a hand around his ear.

"You were right...about a lot of things. I still feel a bit stupid...a _lot_ stupid, but I'm almost glad that I didn't find Dearing myself."

"Almost?"

"Almost. Not quite. I still wish he was dead."

"But?"

"But I don't wish that I had killed him myself."

"Good...because I'm really glad you didn't."

Tim nodded and got out of the car. He walked into his apartment building. Tony watched him go and smiled. That was something he hadn't expected, but he was happy hear it and he would be even happier to help Tim maintain this progress.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_Three months later..._

Tim was focused very intently on his computer. Tony couldn't figure out what he was doing. They'd finished submitting their reports, but Tim was still working on _something_.

"Tim? What's going on?"

"Nothing, Tony," Tim said, but he was smiling which instantly alleviated Tony's worry.

Ziva grinned. "What are you planning, McGee?" she asked.

"Planning? Me? I wouldn't do anything like that," Tim said, all innocence.

"Now, I _know_ you are planning something," she said.

"Never."

Tony looked at Ziva and then, the two of them got up and walked over. Tim had come back to work full-time two weeks before. He'd been there off and on, but not completely. He was still having therapy, but while he would still have his dark moments where Dearing was concerned, he was much _much_ better.

Before they could get to Tim's computer, he pushed a couple of buttons and closed whatever window had been open. He grinned at them both and stood up.

"I think I'll head home."

"What were you doing, Tim?" Tony asked.

Tim just smiled and shrugged. He patted Tony on the shoulder and edged past them.

"Thanks, Tony," he said.

Tim said it quite often, and Tony had long since stopped trying to get him to stop it. He just accepted that Tim _was_ grateful and wanted to show his appreciation. Tony had taken two weeks off once Tim had left the psychiatric hospital. He needed a _real_ vacation, and Vance had agreed, giving him more time than he would normally have had.

"You're welcome," Tony said.

That was all that was needed. Tim got on the elevator and headed home.

Tony walked back and sat at his desk.

"Tim was doing _something_," Ziva said. "What do you think it was?"

Tony shook his head. "I don't know. I haven't seen him being so...sneaky in a long time."

Ziva smiled. "I am just glad to see him being happy again."

"Yeah. Me, too."

To Tony's surprise, Ziva leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"You did a good job, Tony."

Tony looked at Ziva, almost in shock. Ziva just smiled and walked back to her desk.

"Would you like to get a drink?"

"Nah. Not tonight. Catch me tomorrow when I've recovered from the shock of your compliment."

Ziva chuckled. "Very well. See you tomorrow."

Tony waved at her and then checked his email. He had a new one.

From Tim.

_Tony,_

_How about these?_

_Hayward, Wisconsin: Giant fiberglass musky (a fish)_

_Collinsville, Illinois: World's largest catsup bottle_

_Peoria, Illinois: World's largest solar system model_

_Jasonville, Indiana: World's largest yo-yo_

_Alma, Arkansas: World's largest can of spinach_

_Stanton, Iowa: World's largest coffee pot and coffee cup_

_Cawker City, Kansas: World's largest ball of twine_

_Lexington, Kentucky: World's largest Dixie cup_

_Brainerd, Minnesota: Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox_

_Darwin, Minnesota: Another ball of twine. I wonder which is actually bigger._

_St. Louis, Missouri: Largest pencil_

_Wilmington, Ohio: World's largest skateboard_

_Chester, West Virginia: Largest teapot_

_Woodruff, Wisconsin: Largest penny_

_I also read about something called the Cadillac Ranch in northern Texas._

_I don't know. Something to think about...and I'll help drive._

_Tim_

Tony laughed.

"Where did you find these things?" he said aloud.

He hit the reply button.

_Tim,_

_You're nuts, but maybe next summer...if you think we could stand each other's company again...and as long as we stop at the Badlands again._

_Tony_

He hit send and sat back to think. He was in no rush to leave.

His phone rang about half an hour later.

"Yeah?"

"_I'm out of the Badlands, Tony."_

"All the more reason to go back...to the real place, I mean."

"_I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."_

"You're welcome."

Tony hung up and felt the last vestiges of worry he'd carried around dissipate. Even if Tim still had further to go, he now had no doubt that Tim would make it.

He was out of the Badlands.

FINIS!


End file.
